familiarity breeds content

Rosch Haschanna y'all

2009-01-07T16:52:00.007+01:00

So, it's been an actual year since my last post. To use the words of Comedy Dave from t' Chris Moyles Show, "the last 365 days have indeed been a year to me". Well, well. It has been quite something, this last one, though that still doesn't explain how I managed to completely fail to write all this time. Especially since several people came up to me 2008 telling me how they checked up on my scribbles every now and then. Oh well - maybe some of you will find these words sometime in 2009 and be pleased. Who knows? 'Appy Noo Year tooya, BTW, in case we haven't spoken personally. Straight in with the biggest single piece of news from last year, then. The photo above shows what pretty much all of 2008 was about for C and me - the birth of our first daughter, M. Scheduled for autumn, she decided she couldn't wait that long(mirroring our feelings to some extent, though being grown-ups, C and I have, of course long mastered the whole delayed satisfaction thing. Yeah, right.) and "popped out", as it were, in July. She was tiny, but God gave her strength to come through those initial dark days. Now, she's a bouncing, happy baby who seems to enjoy life as much as her parents do. Her arrival has meant many, many changes to pretty much every aspect of our lives and future plans, some expected, others less so. On the plus side, we now have a very swish estate (station wagon) to ferry us around and we are currently in mid-move to our first house. (The latter entailing, by means of warning, an expected month of offline-ness, so please don't be offended should you e-mail me/us in February and not hear back) Oh, and we've grown a lot closer to our families in many ways (a huge plus). Not as great were things like the setback to my already tight university study schedule. I'm now well behind my original plans to the extent that I'm currently teetering on the edge of maybe giving up and finding some other way of getting to wherever it is my life may be headed. But hey, I've never been one for straight paths and obvious, set career plans, as many of you will know. Oh, here's a promise: should I end up quitting my studies, I will definitely, definitely blog about it. So there. Had a couple of minutes with my little daughter earlier this afternoon (I'm s'posed to be cramming for a test right now, so am spending the day lashed to my desk in case I try running. Not like that would ever happen...) in between C's various trips. She's doing all the planning and preparation for the move, which makes sense given my need to be studying hard, but makes me dead jealous nonetheless. I absolutely detest not being able to chip in, especially when there's a big project that involves DIY, physical exertion, etc. *sigh* So anyway, M was on my lap, wide-eyed, taking everything in, making the occasional noise or smiling at me while I sang for her( Something I do unthinkingly whenever she's near. Always have, in fact, even before she was born. It's been one of the few things I COULD do for her during those tough early times, and it is the joy of my life to see how much she reacts to my voice now.). And, once again, I was struck by how extraordinary it is to have her, and how little I comprehend the fact that she's my daughter, here for life. I mean, people (typically those who don't have children yet) seem to take for granted that where there are married couples, there will automatically be children, provided it's what those couples want. These children, it seems, will simply pop out 9 months after the prospective Mum and Dad decide the time is right. They will be healthy at birth and grow up, by default, to be healthy, happy kids. Now, I'm not criticising anyone here - until a while ago, my own assumptions would have been very much the same and I would have freely shared my beliefs with anyone listening. What I have learnt, though, over the last two years, has led me to think the complete opposite. Now, I all but hold my breath anytime someone without children mentions the topic, as I see so many potential pitfalls, so much potential for worry, grief and disappointment. Yes, C's and my experience has been an extreme one (and one that's not necessarily easy to share or for others to understand), but nevertheless my world-view has changed dramatically and for a long time to come. My eyes have been opened - it feels as if I'm surrounded by people who have been unable to have children, who have suffered miscarriages or who have been faced with inexpressible burdens that accompany childbirth under any but the most normal conditions. I would sincerely like to apologise to anyone who's feelings I may have hurt over the years with snide comments dismissing the issue's seriousness. I hope I have learned my lesson. Attempt at earnesty over, the other side of this whole "shock and awe" thing is that I still can't seem to fathom on a personal level how this amazing, beautiful, living being that recognises my face, my voice and the touch of my hands could be my daughter. I mean, my very own daughter, mine, "flesh of my flesh", all that. She does look like me, that's undeniable (though, fortunately, neither beard nor pouch nor receding hairline are in evidence so far). And of course I have no doubt whatsoever over who her parents are. Still, you(I) find yourself looking down into a pair of eyes that are neither your own nor those of your wife and you(I) catch yourself just marvelling at the fact that she's there. Not to mention the fact that she loves and trusts us, and prefers our company over that of all others. And that she clearly knows we are "where she belongs". 6 months in, it's still so much of a miracle to me, and I doubt that will ever change, even after years of getting used to each other. (Maybe I should save a copy of these lines to my hard drive and re-read them once M hits puberty. Ha.) So, anway, I wanted to share all of this with you. At the moment, I'm not expecting the new year to be an easy one and am not feeling all-too buoyant in general. However, I do know that, whatever 2009 transpires to be, I'm now a Dad and proud as can be of my little baby. So, with that in mind, thank you as always for your thoughts and prayers and please don't hesitate to be in touch, okay? Our new lair is a bungalow-shaped affair, BTW, with a huge patio outside just waiting for warm summer evenings, barbeques and outdoors musickery. So swing by anytime and we'll catch up. Cheerio!

The weirdest thing

2008-01-25T10:08:00.001+01:00

...just happened to me. I'm not really supposed to be blogging right now, but I feel like I must share this: I just had the oddest phonecall ever, one that is still sending shivers up and down my spine as I write. One of my all-time childhood heros just rang and, because I didn't answer the phone, left a message on my answering machine. No, I didn't have a clue it was going to be him, or else I would certainly have taken the call. As it is, I am now the proud owner of what may be a priceless historical piece of audio only to myself, but nonetheless one I am very proud of. Here goes: when I was a kid there was this band, "Arno&Andreas" whose cassettes and LPs I absolutely devoured. They were the best - 1970's-style Christian pop music with what can only be described as massive production and big, big sound (horn sections, slapped basslines, DX7 synth licks, hammond organs and percussion mayhem, the whole nine yards) as well as catchy melodies and ever-so-slightly oddball if unselfconscious lyrics. I never managed to see them live but I think it's fair to say I know greater parts of their musical oeuvre very, very well, to the point of being able to sing their songs by heart, instrumental solos and drum breaks included. I LOVED this band and was devastated when I found out they had quit playing together sometime in the late Eighties, I believe. To me, they encapsulated all that was great about Christian contemporary music and, in my opinion, no-one in Germany has ever come close to achieving the kind of greatness these guys had at the time. So, anyway, many many years later, C and I were sitting working in the office last night when I have this idea that, for an RE class C is teaching, she might be able to use one particular "Arno&Andreas" song that I hold in such fond memory. Unfortunately, I only have a this song on cassette, which means I have to go and rummage through huge boxes full of old tapes down in the cellar, alas finding myself unable to locate the MC in question. Undefeated, I go online (as, unbeknown to me, does Christine, who is well aware of my love for the band) and find that one of the former band members, Arno Backhaus, has a personal website (www.arno-backhaus.de) from where he is selling CD recordings of many of their classic albums. Yay! I fire off an e-mail order for the CD I know holds the track I was telling C about, only to find out later that evening that she has gone and done the same thing, thinking she might surprise me with a gift. So I get back on the computer and e-mail the website, asking them to recall my order as it would appear to have been unnecessary. And then, this very morning as I'm sitting writing up a long-overdue review for a friend's CD (the album "Pride of Creation" by CEIL), the phone rings and I listen in stunned silence as Arno Backhaus himself, one half of "Arno& Andreas", tells me that, in fact, C and I ordered disparate CDs, so he doesn't know now which one to send us. I swear I almost spray coffee all over my keyboard as I hear the words "hi, this is Arno Backhaus calling" emerge in a calm, friendly voice from my answerphone's tinny little speaker. Honestly, it feels like having, say, Dave Matthews ring to say sorry I wasn't entirely happy with his band's latest album and would I mind getting back to him for some feedback. I'm totally blown away! I've no idea what Mr Backhaus does for a living these days (his website seems to suggest that maybe he's not entirely sure himself, though he appears to be doing well enough at whatever it is he does), but I do know he's just delivered me an absolute once-in-a-lifetime memory, the kind of story I fear my dear grandchildren will someday be so sick of that they will refuse to come visit eventually. Isn't life random sometimes? Cheerio!

Randomnicity

2008-01-07T12:30:00.000+01:00

Well, well. What with the old year passing, I've had myself a few days off from studying, days that I feel I used to great effect. I slept late. Ate a lot. Relaxed. Played (I think I'm going to be too embarrassed after all, so I'm not telling you what I played at). Oh, and watched a bunch of DVDs, which is what has inspired me to post on this bleary Monday over lunch. Here's what I've been watching over the last two days: "Transformers", the Michael Bay cartoon-gone-Hollywood-movie job, mindless dance flick "Stomp The Yard" and the oddball French offering of "Renaissance 2054". It was the latter that sparked a conversation with C on how films tend to transport a lot of intentional and, more interestingly, unintentional cultural information. From said conversation, here are some thoughts and observations.

(this image courtesy of www.globalsecurity.org)

First off, the French movie seemed to have a very different take on heroism from that portrayed in both the American productions. Captain Karas of the Paris police, the film's main character and "hero" is a loner, a guy who doesn't talk much, goes against orders at random, never finds a kind word for the members of his team, yet expects them to follow his every command even after he gets suspended some way into the story. He is portrayed not so much as a brooding, rough-exterior-but-good-heart type, but rather as a very self-centred and misanthropic hard man whose negative image is lightened very rarely by moments of friendliness or sympathy for others. His team (with the notable exception of one character, portrayed as a Spaniard) is slavishly devoted to him, however, and appears to expect, maybe even enjoy(?) the sadistic treatment they receive. This faithfulness apparently means nothing to Karas - in one scene, his second-in-command, father of a baby child, risks his life to meet Karas and give him important information on a case. Karas, knowing their meeting is being shadowed, takes off and leaves his colleague to be beaten up and tortured by thugs rushing onto the scene. This seems to contrast very markedly with your typical American movie where no-one gets left behind, the team leader always takes great care to ensure the safety of his team, etc.

(this image courtesy of www.carbodydesign.com)

Another trait that goes along similar lines is the apparent fallibility of the main character. Karas leaves behind a trail of dead bodies in his headlong rush to find an abducted scientist being held in a secret location. While this is not in itself unusual, the main difference to an American approach seems to be the way the movie itself passes moral judgment on its hero. There is no sense of "collateral damage", of necessary sacrifice for a higher cause in the way people get killed. Instead, Karas is shown failing to prevent a key witness from committing suicide. He fails to realise he is endangering people until they die. He shoots some bad guys trying to abduct another scientist, yet gets reprimanded by his superior for having entered the scientist's premises without a warrant, instead of being praised for his valiance. Overall, Karas is portrayed as both clumsy and highly naive, a hero whose dialogue is blunt and childlike, as is the way in which he sleeps with his main witness, the abductee's sister, then later lies to her about the abductee's fate.

(this one courtesy of www.cyberpunkreview.com)

The feeling both C and I got was that the movie was setting out to intentionally destroy any notions of there being a "good" and "bad" party - as Karas finally manages to locate and free Ilona, the abducted scientist, the plot takes a sudden turn that skews the viewer's perspective on both the rescuer and the rescued. I don't wish to give too much away here in case you haven't seen the film, but suffice to say the outcome is pretty much failure on every single count - the whole plot has been unraveled, dismounted, taken to pieces and scattered, leaving little room for conclusions as the credits roll by. There are no more good or bad guys, just a bunch of failures on different sides of a struggle. There is no happy or sad ending, just a sense of finality, of shoulder-shrugging "ah well, that's that, then. Let's move on." And, while I'm sorry for trotting out old stereotypes about our fellow Europeans, isn't that pretty much exactly the cliché of French thinking one has in mind? You know, cynicism mixed with bouts of heavy narcissism and something of a defeatist, "oh-what-the-hell" attitude? Gosh, reading myself writing these words I do feel like I'm being incredibly harsh! The thing is, I really love France, the people and their language as well as the beautiful country itself. So maybe I shouldn't even touch upon another thing that made me smirk - the fact that the whole plot is based upon a society's quest for immortality, surely the pinnacle of vanity and a distinctly ridiculous goal for anyone bar the most deludedly self-important. Oh dear - that came out even worse than I thought...

(this pic courtesy of www.ilovesubstance.com)

So, anyway, after noting all these apparent oddities about "Renaissance", I thought I should maybe compare and contrast what I perceive to be the French take on heroism, leadership and life in general with my perception of an American approach. Using both "Transformers" and "Stomp The Yard" as reference points, one thing immediately evident is that these films (and, I believe it's fair to say, the majority of US movies) have a very clear-cut view of good and bad that doesn't really change throughout their storylines. Also (and this was where I started to become a little more interested), both stories have clearly defined heroes who set out on adventures/missions that lead to their stories' conclusions. One thing I've noted previously and found repeated in these two representatives of Hollywood's output is that the hero of a story will be challenged to learn something new, to acquire abilities or rise above their own limitations in order to successfully achieve whatever goal has been set out for them. This has become a theme in movies so much that I guess most viewers might not even notice it being there. In "Stomp The Yard", main character DJ has to learn to think of others besides himself whereas "Transformers" gives a rendition of the familiar coming-of-age story (boyhood to manhood). However, the contrast with "Renaissance" could not be any clearer than at this point. Karas in "Renaissance" does not evolve as a character in any way throughout the film's duration. More of his history and emotional makeup is unveiled, yet at the end his personality remains unchanged. This was interesting to me for several reasons: one, I'm sure everyone must know by now just how all-important the American concepts of being self-made people and of the American dream in all its facets are for a stereotypical US mentality. So, seeing these concepts mirrored in products of US popular culture and assuming that such manifestations of identity are inevitable byproducts of society, what conclusion would looking at the French attitudes evidenced in the movie allow? To be honest, I haven't worked that one out myself yet.

(this is courtesy of www.netweed.com)

Secondly, the American movies were all about winning, about achieving a goal no matter what and hang the consequences. Sam and the Autobots in "Transformers" manage to destroy the source of conflict in their movie (and most of the bad guys, too), but not without leaving a trail of horrific devastation, of destroyed city centres, military bases and of hundreds of spent lives behind them. DJ in "Stomp The Yard" gets the girl and helps his team win the all-important dance contest, but all he seems to have learnt from his brother dying at the beginning of the movie is to hold back a little on his ego. Yes, I know, this is where my comparison starts running very thin on its viability - one probably shouldn't compare light entertainment with supposedly aspiring and self-proclaimedly artistic productions. However, I did think with both Hollywood flicks that there was absolutely no sense of remorse, of humility caused by realising what one had done to others in order to achieve one's own success. But there you go - I'd be the first to cede that I shouldn't be comparing apples and pears simply because they go towards confirming my own biased assumptions quite nicely. And with that, I will have to end for now - this has already taken up way too much of my time. So, until some day in the future, cheerio and feel free to comment if you like (in English or German).

Long time no blog

2007-11-02T02:34:00.000+01:00

Hiya! Gosh, how I'd love to be writing this to say "hello and welcome back y'all - I'm gonna be a-bloggin' agin!" That, however, shall remain a dream for now - at least until I finally pass that Greek exam. God willing (never a more appropriate phrase) this will be sometime in spring next year. Gah! What a horribly long wait. Well, let me at least use this briefest of opportunities (if "opportunity" is the right word to describe the cumulative after-effects of a bank holiday spent entirely on the couch watching DVDs and missing my wife. It's about three in the morning right now and I really, REALLY shouldn't be doing this) to do a tiny little "egg roll", err blogroll (thanks, enidd, for the loan of your term). One writer/blogger in particular I would love to draw your attention to as I think her skills are truly extraordinary: check out my friend Trudy's blogs - this one at blogger, that one at Shoutlife and the other one detailing some of her daily life as a missionary in Hungary. We (C&I) have been privileged to be personal friends with Trudy and her family and C is in fact currently visiting them as I write these lines. Lucky her! Anyway, I'm afraid that'll have to be all for now. Sorry to everyone whose blogs I haven't managed to keep up with recently - I do try to at least read, if not comment, but even that's become a rare thing these days. So, sorry and I hope to be back soon. Cheerio and God bless!

Summer - break! Err, sorry, got it wrong again

2007-08-09T13:24:00.000+02:00

Weak attempts at humour aside, hello again and welcome. Yes, the holidays have arrived, finally. And no, that doesn't mean I don't have a ton of things I really ought to be doing at the minute. What it does mean is that, for right now, I simply can't be bothered to work on any of my projects and shall instead enjoy taking the leisure of a little internet hobnob with you. I hope you've all been keeping well and I've tried to keep up with most people's blogs as best I could. For the non-bloggers among my huge and varied audience (cue dry laughter), I trust you're also well and breathing. Don't forget - heal the world, make it a better place. For you and for me, for the entire human race. Or something... (gotten into Chris Moyles' podcasts quite a bit recently. I guess it's showing)

(this image courtesy of www.search.com)

Seamlessly breaking one of Wendz' Ten Blogging Commandments (for reasons beyond my weak little brain, Blogger never, ever believes my html so I can't, for the life of me, get proper paragraphs. Hence the piccie instead), I'd like to move on and talk about something that's been close to my heart for a while now. No, not my chest hair (that's close, though, too) - the question of why love can be such a complicated and, at times, grievous affair. Maybe you don't know what I mean and think I'm talking rubbish. After all, love is supposed to be easy, to come naturally, to be all fluffy pink clouds (or "fruffy ping crowds", as a dearly beloved friend from Hongkong might put it) and sunshine. You fall in love, your hearts meet and intertwine, you ride off into the sunset and enter that place known to hopeless romantics as "happy ever after". Only that, in my experience (and, I think, in the experience of most long-term lovers and countless parents of children all over the world), it doesn't work quite like that. For reasons that, quite often, even the persons involved can't explain themselves, lovers and people in close-knit relationships tend to hurt each other, to wind each other up and irritate one another on all kinds of levels. Huge blows may be dealt, such as infidelity or breaches of trust, but most often it seems to be smaller things, minor incidents, small niggles, subtleties, that cause aggravation in the long run. Often, there is insecurity involved - affection is not shown adequately because of lacking self-esteem, urges and desires in a relationship are suppressed because the partner feeling the urge is embarrassed of themselves, etc. Whatever the cause, all long-term interpersonal love relationships (gosh, I sound like a shrink. Okay, so I'm an ex-shrink) seem to go through phases where the supposed heaven of partnership/matrimony/family turns out to be more of the opposite, and where "other options" such as leaving, withdrawal or taking a hiatus may hold great appeal, if only momentarily.

(this image courtesy of www.lasplash.com)

Now, I'm a Christian and as such, I believe that God and I have a personal relationship that is, in some ways, comparable to our human relationships. Maybe I should add that C and I are currently on our summer break (me from uni, C from teaching) and "coming down" from the exertions of working life. This inevitably tends to exacerbate the amount of tension and friction we encounter together. I caught myself fuming over some small disagreement/misunderstanding the other day and thinking "Why, oh why can't you just trust me for once? I've never disappointed you on this one..." And suddenly I was struck by the astounding similarity between what I experience in my relationship with C and the kind of frustration God must feel in His relationship with me sometimes. Quick disclaimer: I am in NO way comparing myself to God here. That's not at all what I mean. What I'm talking about is that almost everyone in a love relationship inevitably hits a point of frustration, of wanting, if only for a second, to throw in the towel and despair of the whole affair. And, looking at my own walk with God, I can see loads and loads of big and little things where I'm pretty darn sure God must be tearing his hair out in frustration at my behaviour. Like when I know something I want to do is wrong and will take me away from God's presence (that's my definition of sin, BTW - something that separates me from God's love), and I go and do it anyway because I want to. Then, after I've screwed up, I'll come complaining and moaning to God at how unhappy I am and how I want for Him to make everything okay again. Only that I've not done my part in sorting things out and instead, want Him to perform some sort of miracle to right my wrongs with no involvement on my side. If there's one thing I believe very firmly, then it is that faith in God does not take away responsibility for my actions. So, I know that the onus for making up is on me, but instead of acting, I'll continue my litany of moans and whimpers and hope that if I keep my eyes closed for long enough, the problem will somehow go away. Can you see where I'm heading? I picture God in reaction to my calls for help, caught between wanting to help me because He loves me very much and wanting to give me a right good kick in the backside for being so benightedly stupid at the same time. Anyway, what I ended up thinking (and this is what I've been trying to get to for the last 2 million or so words) is that maybe one of the reasons our relationships can be so complicated is because they are, to some extent, mirror images of how God feels towards us. On one hand, He desperately wants to be close to us (that's what we were created for according to the Bible - to be relationship partners with God), yet on the other hand, because He loves us so much, He's given us freedom of choice to do whatever we want with our lives. Yes, He does get frustrated, but unlike us He never, never gives up. And while that's one of the things that separates me from God, I also find inspiration to hang in there and exercise patience, maybe even real grace in my personal, human relationships because I know that there's someone who won't ever give up on me no matter how often or how badly I screw up. So, there!

And now, the time has come...

2007-06-25T21:41:00.000+02:00

Hello once again. Thank you for all your comments, support and questions about where I've been. I really appreciate your support and concern. Okay, so here's what's going on right now in my life; essentially, I'm just frightfully busy. No, I'm not moaning or complaining here - it's just the way things are and it is also why I've not posted a thing over the last month or two. Being a student and trying to make some money in my freetime has simply turned out to be more than suits my blogging habits. Not only has my own output been zero, I haven't even managed to keep track of anyone else's blogs. That makes me sad, yet at the minute I don't see how I could change anything without having to sacrifice time spent on my studies or with my wife. And as these two happen to be the most immediately important things I'm doing right now, I guess this boils down to priorities and setting them the best way I know how. So, while there's lots I'd love to tell you about (such as the thrill of managing main stage at a festival with 35,000 people, or the ups and downs of life as a theology student/commuter, or just personal rants on various subjects), I'm afraid I won't be doing so for a while, unless some major and unexpected change crops up enabling me to balance the blogosphere more evenly against the narrowly-labelled "real world". What I will do is try to check in sporadically and try to keep tabs at least roughly on other people's blogs. Those other people will definitely include Shelly, who has been both a very kind fellow blogger and a highly inspirational, thought-provoking blog read, Enidd whose writing makes me laugh so hard that I tend to snort tea from my nostrils, and of course Wendz, whom I admire hugely (and have some sort of secret crush on, I think). Many others deserve a mention, of course, but I shall take the liberty of being unfair and selective, mostly for reasons of time. I hope to be back some day and wish all of you out there the best of luck and, if I may, the blessings of the God I personally happen to believe in. Be safe and see you around, okay?

breaking the fast

2007-05-02T16:29:00.000+02:00

Hello there! First off, thanks for all your comments - wow, looks like people are still reading this blog after all! Meanwhile, I'm still officially "on hold" with the blogging, but I also happened to ask enidd to interview me before I left, and seeing as Her Enidness might well be offended should I scorn her kindness, here's a quick something to answer those questions...

you're guaranteed a decent income for life. what do you spend your days doing? Oooh, tricky one. There's several things I'm tempted to say. First off is "I finally go ahead and get this rockstar thing off the ground and flying. Now that I'm financially uninhibited and can invest everything I make into my music, fame and riches here I come!" Then again, I'm not sure that really is what I'd do. Okay, so I've been mulling this over a bit and here's what I'd WANT myself to be doing if that ever happened: I'd want to be out there on the street, talking to people (and maybe singing to them, too) and trying to spread the hope I find in my faith by sharing love. Now, how hippie bum does that sound? Anyway, it's what I hope I'd have the guts to do, given the chance...
what's your philosophy of life in a single sentence? Love God and love people. That was easy...
you can spend a year abroad. which country would you choose? We-eell, that's way harder now. See, I've hardly been anywhere outside of Europe, and would LURVE to travel. I guess Oz or NZ spring to mind. I'm a summer person, so places like Hawaii or SoCal (or even the lovely Languedoc in the south of France) all hold an irresistible lure, too. I'd quite like to spend a year in "Hillerman Country", i.e. Arizona as I'm a massive fan of his detective novels (Tony Hillerman, that is). Heck, there's about a thousand places I could think of that sound appealing. Ideally, it'd be somewhere by the sea and with a warm climate. Perfection would be a house on the beach with a boat or two to play with in my free time. Will that do?
which do you prefer to read - fact or fiction? Hmm. Scanning my bookshelves, I'm actually surprised at how much scientific/fact-oriented/non-fictional literature I seem to have gotten through over the last couple of years. My first instinct was to go for fiction as my clear favourite. However, I also like things like biographies and topical works. For something to curl up with by the fireside in the evening, fiction wins hands down, though.
you've invited enidd round for dinner. what do you cook? Oh gosh, that's a tough one. See, my cooking is limited mostly to traditional German/Swabian dishes, which tend to be fairly substantial and not terribly elegant affairs. Provided Enidd was up for the German equivalent of country fayre, I would serve up the following:

As an aperitif, something we call "Eiswein" - wine made from grapes picked very, very late in the year when the first frost has come. Eiswein is quite sweet and fruity, with touches of honey and various spices in its bouquet.
For starters, a soup with Maultaschen (a kind of noodle filled with cabbage, ground meat and herbs), Flädle (strips of pancake) and Knödel (dumplings). This is known as a "Festtagssuppe" in Swabia and would traditionally be served at weddings and other special occasions.
A green salad made up of lettuce, field salad and roquette, dressed with a touch of balsamico vinegar, pistachios and roasted sunflower seed. Okay, this isn't necessarily Swabian, but it sure tastes good...
Main course would be a "Rostbraten" (a lean rumpsteak fried up in a rich sauce and garnished with onion rings) with home-made "Spätzle" noodles, "Brägele" (fried potatoes) and Sauerkraut (a type of cabbage marinated in wine with spices). Speaking of wine, I believe a fruity, semi-dry Trollinger-Lemberger or dry Schwarzriesling (Pinot Noir) could work here. Alternatively, a lighter Schillerweinmight be served depending on Enidd's preference. All wines would, of course, come from my home valley and I would be happy to show off by telling her about of the joys of grape harvesting, October sun on multi-coloured vineyard foliage, childhood memories, etc.
Finally, before the wine and cheese, we would have something called "Pfitzauf" - a kind of soufflé served with vanilla ice cream and cranberry sauce.
I'm no expert on cheese, but I'm pretty sure we could find a selection of wines to be sampled that might please even Enidd and The Man's distinguished tastes...

Howzat? Thanks for the interview, Enidd, and thank you-all for reading. Cheerio then...

Announcement

2007-04-21T11:59:00.000+02:00

Heya! I know, I know - haven't exactly been regular in my posting, even during the semester break, which has now been over for a week. And, guess what - I don't see how this is going to change much. Yes, there's plenty of stuff I've come across recently that seems blogworthy to me, but surprise, surprise, I can't seem to find the time and commitment to get it up here in writing. So, for now, I fear I shall be continuing the way I have recently - i.e. blogging whenever I can find time to get something written. Yes, I DO realise that this is exactly how you successfully kill off any attempts at building a regular body of readers. But then, as those of you who may have been checking in regularly will long have found, it's the way things have been for months already, so why make a fuss and pretend I'm going to change? I'm not, not unless for some reason I shall find myself housebound for any longer period of time. And as that's not on the cards for now, here's the plan: I WILL blog. But I will only do so when I honestly feel I'm not compromising my chances of success in my studies and jeopardising the balance of my marriage relationship. I sincerely hope that some of you at least will come back and check on me from time to time. For the rest, well, I hope you were able to glean some sort of enjoyment from my scribblings. Feel free to watch this space, and, as the Terminator said, "I'll be back!" Cheerio

Intense Moments, Part Two

2007-03-27T13:48:00.000+02:00

Hello again - like I'd predicted, this study-free time is really aiding my blogging output... So, here's another moment I remember vividly and I think might be worth a story. Here we go:

(this image courtesy of www.virgilelliot.com)

Darkness. Giggles. The rustling of bedclothes, the sounds of breathing, my own and that of six or seven other teenage kids. We're all about sixteen years old, two girls and a bunch of boys away on a weekend retreat with two grown-up "tent leaders" who've long gone to bed. It's Saturday night around midnight. The boys' bedroom has a row of six bunkbeds lined up side by side, and it is on top of this large sleeping area that we're all gathered. What with hormones flying around and everyone keen for adventure, the girls have slipped over from their room and, among much excited whispering, laughs and teasing, joined the boys in bed. I'm over on the far side of the bed, and next to me is Emily, the only one in our group who's already "going regular" with a partner. Emily is the group outsider - though of our age, she doesn't go to the same school as most of us, she lives in the poorer part of our small town and her clothes and appearance are downmarket and disheveled. There has been the odd moment of tension between her and other group members during the day and, to be honest, I think none of us boys is as excited to have her with us as we are about sweet, popular, fragrant Violet's presence near the other end of the bed. However, this is puberty and there's lots of testosterone (and some estrogen) mingling with the adrenalin in the warm, musty air above the bed. While the laughs, occasional squealing and merriment continue on Violet's side, both Emily and I are being quiet, pretending to sleep as we're clearly missing out on the exciting action. Then, a strange and unexpected thing happens: Emily, maybe on the verges of dozing off, turns on her side, her arm falling across my chest, her face suddenly close to me, locks of her bushy hair tickling my nose.

(this image courtesy of www.ftloose.org)

I'm stunned and lie rigid for several seconds, my heart thumping, unsure of what to do. On one hand, I'm repulsed and even a little scared - after all, I'm not particularly attracted to Emily and feel a teenager's fear of ridicule if the group finds out I'm "shacking up" with her. Also, there's a smell of stale smoke from her hair that is making me twitch with discomfort. But still, regardless of all this turn-off, I'm feeling urges stirring deep inside me (not to mention in my loins) that I've never felt before. Don't get me wrong - my, err, masculinity is intact and has been causing me all the trouble and awkward pleasure that accompanies my age. However, I've never been this close to a woman, this near her body, her lips before and I feel myself being pulled in by a magic that is new to me, something dark and scary, yet strangely natural. I can feel Emily's breathing make her chest rise and fall, her body heat washing over me in waves that leave my head spinning. Eventually, I find the courage to turn from lying on my back to a position facing her. Thoughts race through my mind: what am I doing? Where does this attraction come from? Can the others hear my pounding heart, the noises our movements have made? What will happen next?

(this one courtesy of www.stevenapolis.blogspot.com)

With a sigh, Emily turns a bit more and snuggles her head against my chest. I'm not sure whether she's asleep at this point, or whether she's conscious of what she's doing to me. Surely this must be intentional - how could it not be? The sound of my own pulse is booming in my ears. Without even thinking or knowing what I'm doing, my right knee, pressed lightly against her legs, begins curling upwards, my thigh thrusting gently between her legs. She gives a little; we're fully embracing now and my mind has gone into complete overload. I'm seeing fireworks and my stomach is doing funny rollercoaster motions inside me. I don't even know what I'm doing - that's what surprises me most in hindsight. This may sound stupid, but if I say that I had no idea where my leg movement was heading or why that should be related to my excitement, be assured that I'm not lying. Again, Emily sighs, this time against my chest - I feel her breast rising before the sound comes out. I'm on fire, set alight by something I've never encountered but which has taken me over before I even know it's name. Little flames are licking their way up and down my lower belly and my breathing is so rushed that I'm sure the others MUST have noticed by now and are listening. Amazingly, I'm beyond caring at this point - I want to go wherever this road takes me, and I want to go there now. I'm aware enough to notice that Emily's breath, like mine, is laboured. Then, all of a sudden, it's all over - with a jerk, Emily's head comes up, she hisses "what are you doing with your leg?" and turns away from me.

(this image courtesy of www.flickr.com, says Google)

I'm stunned, left panting in the dark with no warning, no clue of what's going on, no-one to tell me what just happened. Later in the night, Emily turns my way again, but I push her away and try to sleep. To my relief, I find out next morning that it seems nobody heard me, or "us", or whatever it was. I'm still ripped and torn with guilt - I don't know what to make of my own or Emily's behaviour, I'm repulsed at my own actions and completely befuddled as to what this all means. A talk with one of the two group leaders whom I love and respect doesn't help - maybe it's because I'm too self-conscious to go into details about how I feel. I want someone, ideally a man, to tell me what this riptide of primal instinct means, whether it's normal for someone of my age, or whether I have reason to be ashamed. Unfortunately, I fail to find understanding and come away confused and unhappy. Not a perfect start to my manhood, then (no, I didn't become a man that night, though I felt as if I had at the time - after all, it was my first real exposure to the passion of love-making). Telling you, my readers, this story, has been an interesting experience, however, and surely that makes the memory worthwhile? I hope so... (BTW, neither Emily nor Violet have been given their real names - after all, my own mother sometimes reads my posts!)

Intense Moments, Part One

2007-03-26T15:07:00.000+02:00

...here we are again. My topic for today's post is driven in part by all the amazingly forthright, honest blogging that has been going on recently among the people I read regularly. Wendz, it's the little things, Kaat (the other blog), Shelley Rayedeane, you inspire me. I admire your resolve and am trying to learn from it. So, I'm trying to think of ways I can tell you more about me, who I am, etc. And one way I came up with is this, to share some of my life's "crunch time" moments thus far, be they positive and uplifting experiences or otherwise. Starting off, here's one moment (Wendz-inspired again!!!) I shall never, ever forget. In fact, I dream of it regularly ever since...

(this image courtesy of www.jaars.org)

The Porter PC 6's side door slides open, letting a sudden blast of cold air into the tiny cabin crammed with bodies. Take-off was at a summery 26 degrees centigrade - up here, we're down to a cool 14, which feels positively arctic in comparison. I'm kneeling on the cabin floor, head almost touching the ceiling, the harness belts across my chest, shoulders and belly pulling me painfully back against Sam, my instructor, who is cool as ice outwardly, though I can feel his pulse quickening as things start happening. The moment the door went back, three to five guys leapt out, but as Sam has been ordering me around, I've not had time to focus on them. Now, fully belted up and ready, I'm told to move forward through the increasingly emptier cabin on my knees, pulling Sam behind me in an awkward sort of conga motion. As we near the door, my mate Andy (whose stag do this is) sits in the doorway, gives a nervous thumbs-up to the cameraman clinging to the wing strut outside, then leans forward and is gone. Being nearer the door now, I can actually see what happens, and it robs me of all thought except blank terror. Quicker than my eyes can follow, he and his instructor have vanished, become a colourful speck somewhere way below me, then they're gone from view, all in a matter of one or two seconds. Suddenly, the realisation of what I'm about to do hits me like a ton of bricks. I guess the build-up to the event - organising the jump, re-scheduling it at short notice, organising a pre-event meeting with Sam, getting transport for all of Andy's mates, etc. has really helped me to not think about the jump itself. Even the training session this morning somehow failed to make me register just what this is all about. My throat constricts and it's all I can do not to scream. My hands are up at my neck, unable to claw at anything, as ordered by Sam. Oh my God.

(this image courtesy of www.codinghorror.com)

We're alongside the door now and I note how, even kneeling, I'm too tall to fit through. Andy, who's over six foot tall, went out feet first, sitting on the ledge for a moment with his instructor before jumping, but Sam, maybe anticipating my nervousness, has other plans. I'm ordered to duck my head down, then stick my left knee out of the plane into thin air and plunk it down on the plane's running board just below the door. I'm dumbstruck, but try to follow orders anyway. As I lower my head, I can't help noticing that the familiar landscape 4000 metres below me is shrouded by some light clouds. Oh gosh, we're even higher than the clouds! Panic strikes as I lurch out into what is effectively thin air, and I can't help but grab the top of the doorframe as my knee fumbles for the sill. Sam whips my hand away with an angry motion (okay, maybe he wasn't angry, but that's how it felt at the time). Cripes, this is uncomfortable - I'm half in, half out of a tiny airplane with miles of thin air below me and an instructor who's exchanging pleasantries with the pilot and the other divers still to go, including two cameramen who are hanging, grinning, off the side of the plane. My head is stretched back hard as ordered, hands up at my neck as I'm told to grin and give the cameras a thumbs-up. Then, with my head still back, Sam tells me he'll count to three, then go. Moments later, at two-and-a-bit, we're suddenly out of the plane with a jerk, falling as my stomach does an amplified version of that jerk you get when cresting a hump on a roller-coaster. I've instinctively kicked my legs backwards and up like I was told to, back arched. Still, we go through an almost complete somersault before righting ourselves awkwardly in the horizontal position we practiced all morning. My eyes fill with earth, then sky (my head's still back) as I stifle yet another yelp. This is sensory overload - despite the overalls, I'm freezing cold as we accelerate relentlessly towards the ground. Every time I catch a glimpse of terra firma from the corner of my eye, it seems to have come so much closer that I expect us to pull the 'chute any moment now. Meanwhile, I'm gagging on the cold air that's rushing into my nostrils and mouth, threatening to choke as I try my best to control my breathing. My mouth is wide open, both in shock and in an attempt to exhale better - it's not the intake of breath, it's getting the air back out that's hard work at what I find out later is in excess of 150 mph (254 km/h - we even have a speedo "on board"). Sam is tapping my shoulder now, pulling my arms out of their position and into a way more comfortable "wings-out" stance. As I begin to relax (and look down - after all, I want to see where we're going, what this familiar piece of Germany looks like from the air, etc.), someone suddenly pulls on my arm and pushes my head back up again. Jens, our cameraman, has arrived in position right next to us and motions me to smile and do a thumbs-up for the camera. His helmet cam is using the wrong type of lense, but I we don't find that out until later on the ground. Sam and I perform a few spins for him (the tiny brake 'chute dragging behind us means we can easily circle around our own plummet axis, which is fun but a little too fast for my liking), then I'm told to put my hands back in and brace myself. What, already? I've only just started relaxing!

(this image courtesy of www.pacific-skydiving.com)

Moments later, I do the perfect impression of a marionet whose strings have snapped as the 'chute comes out with what sounds like a supersonic bang. Despite myself, my head is thrown forwards, my legs and arms flail downwards and I feel a huge rush of blood down from my head and upper body into my legs. Simultaneously, the belts on my thighs (around my crotch) seem to tighten up as gravity fights the increased drag the canopy above us is creating. Oww! The term "pants on fire" springs to my addled mind. Meanwhile, Sam is talking again, asking whether I'm okay, telling me to reach up and grab the chute's steering lines. "I'm okay, thanks", is all I can manage rather weakly (fortunately, Sam's American, so using my mother tongue is alright) as things finally begin to calm down. The ground has come rather a lot closer than it was before - I can discern individual cars on the nearby autobahn, I can see a town somewhere below me that I think I recognise. Squirming, I try my best to ease the pressure on my privates and allow some of the blood in my legs to flow back upwards. It doesn't work - I can feel myself on the verge of fainting and tell Sam so as black curtains try to close before my open eyes. Pro that he is, Sam immediately starts taking action, making me stand on his feet and losening the belts on my thighs slightly. Unfortunately, his next command makes me want to throw up within seconds - I'm told to pull down on my right-hand guide line as hard as I can. I do and immediately, the whole world starts spinning around me as we swing in a tight circle. This is awful - there are no visual orientation points I can make out by which to reference what is happening, and this makes my stomach lurch. Sam gives out a muted curse as I warn him what's about to happen - I don't know why at this point, but as he tells me later, this is a very common occurance and unfortunately, he's only just discovered he forgot to pack a barf bag for me. I'm terribly embarrassed as my body convulses against his and my breakfast is dispersed upon the landscape below us, but there's nothing I can do and Sam reassures me that it's okay (my admiration for him is immeasurable at this point already. I honestly don't think there could be a better instructor for a novice like me. He's doing great - it's not his fault his charge is being such a wuss.). Finally, one empty stomach and several more sickening spins later, I can see us homing in on the landing circle (a large pit full of gravel) in a graceful arc. My legs still feel leaden at this point, so much so that I fail to obey Sam's command to pull them up towards me. We manage a fairly gentle landing anyway and relief floods through me as Sam unbuckles me and turns to attend to the parachute. Andy and the two mates who did the jump before us are there patting me on the back as in kneel on all fours, intestines still heaving, my jump suit in a horrible mess. God, I'm so glad to be alive right now. We make it up and out of the pit and the guys kindly walk back to base with me (the van that usually does the transfer has deemed me untransportable due to the smell). All kinds of emotions rush in - a feeling of triumph at having made it, shame at having made a prat of myself, a deep calm as I realise I'm alive and have done something I shall be able to bore my grandchildren with, something other people would have been scared to do.

(this image courtesy of www.facilities.upenn.edu, clearly not the jump zone we used)

All in all the day ends well for me (not for the future bridegroom, who has a massive row with his fiancee upon coming home. They still got married, though, and are very happy together, I'm glad to report), but I'm left with various impressions that together make me very suspicious of skydiving as a sport. Everyone has said that it's a Marmite thing (love it or hate it), but what I found most worrying wasn't the sport, it was the people I met who do this on a regular basis. With the notable exception of Sam (of whom I'm extremely unwilling to speak badly. He was ace - a quiet, thorough and gentle instructor, truly professional and friendly at all times), most of the guys (and girls) at the jump base reminded me of every adrenaline junkie I've ever met, except that these people spoke openly of taunting death, taking their fate into their own hands as they aimed for low pulls (opening the parachute late) and daredevil stunts mid-air. Scariest moment for me was meeting the guy everybody else on base thought was a bit loony. This grey-haired gentleman wasn't only wearing a very ugly 1970's jump suit, but more importantly he had just consciously completed a jump with a ripped canopy! One of the instructors was having words with him, but it was clear to me from his grin and impudent manner that he didn't give a toss - he was going to do what he liked, and to hell with those like the pilot and the base's organisers who would be made partially accountable if something happened to him. And that's what I don't like about the sport in a nutshell - many of the people here are married with kids and responsibilities beyond their own lives. In order to maintain a valid license, jumpers must make a fairly high number of certified skydives per year. In other words, Family Mum or Dad can't just go out there and risk her or his life once a year for perks if they want to do their own jumps. They have to spend greater parts of their weekends in spring and summer putting their lives in very, very real danger and potentially ruining others' lives in the process. That, to me, just doesn't seem right - sorry, folks. Maybe you think I'm a conservative fraidy-cat, but this thinking is also why I don't ride motorbikes or do drugs - even though I'm married without kids at the moment, I'm not willing to ruin the lives of my wife and family by selfishly indulging in the kinds of pleasure that has an overwhelming potential for fatality. At least, I won't do anything like that more than once. And, as you can probably tell by now, I'm pretty much cured of any such desires for the moment. I still have recurring nightmares of that one jump, and while I'm glad I now know what people are talking about when describing such thrills, I don't think anything but a complete lack of emotional fulfillment in my life would drive me back there...

(this image courtesy of www.whatdigitalcamera.com)

My heartfelt thanks go out to Sam, the instructor who made this the smoothest possible experience for me, and to Andy for having the balls to come through with an unusual idea for a stag do. Meanwhile, I hope you, dear readers, will benefit from what I've written by knowing me a little bit better and being able to extend the image you have of me. So, there! Signing off...

Heavens to mergatroid

2007-03-26T14:48:00.000+02:00

Monday again and, as it turns out, it's Lazy B**tard Monday over here on my balcony where I'm lazing in a folding armchair, OD-ing on unexpected spring sunshine and recovering from the weekend's stresses. Saturday was spent running errands for C, who had a big event on at school. Sunday I played a gig in the morning (a duo act with my new guitarist buddy Martin from CEIL), then slanted off to attend a family do (C's family), sprung a surprise visit on me own Dad while we were in the area, got home late and crashed. Poor C is out working like a slave all day today - sometimes I feel awful about my slobbish, rock'n'roll lifestyle. Then again, once the new semester starts I'll be getting up even earlier than her mornings, so I don't feel all too terrible for now. Anyway, that wasn't really what I wanted to blog about, but before I get to that part, a quick update for those of you who read my post on the abuse done to a teenage boy at a German school recently: I'm horrified to tell you that as far as I know, pretty much nothing has happened since. The school's administration has announced it will be "punishing" the perpetrators with an hour's social service for their misbehaviour, full stop. No legal action, no evictions, no public outcry, nothing. Yes, I'm furious and will be announcing the school's e-mail address here on the blog as soon as I find it out (not an easy task as it turns out)... Watch this space. Okay, forget it, I'll start a new post for what I was originally going to blog about. Hang on...

Heya

2007-03-23T23:44:00.000+01:00

Not much to say tonight as the snow continues blowing past my window. Its Friday night, C's already in bed and here I am tapping away at the keyboard. Feeling very self-conscious about my writing at the moment - I spent some time just perusing other people's blogs and I must say, there's a heck of a lot of writing talent flying around out there. Plus, I've felt trapped a little in my writing recently because of who I am and the people who read my blog. I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but some of you bloggers really go all-out with your personal stories and what-goes-on-in-my-mind episodes. Myself, I increasingly find myself unwilling to blurt about the sordid workings of my mind or the less exciting aspects of being me. To some part, maybe I'm just not the exhibionist I thought I was, but also I'm worried what some of you readers might think of me.

(this image courtesy of www.psychology-concordia.ca)

For example, I gave my blog address to some dear friends down in Cornwall a while ago when I posted pictures and a story about a visit with them. Now, these are lovely people and I doubt they come "here" regularly. And in turn, I'm not sure I'm comfortable telling you all about my secret glue-sniffing addiction or my favourite swearwords if I imagine that my light-hearted (okay, if I really sniffed glue, that should be "light-headed") and, err, intimate scribblings should happen before them. They don't know me that way, and I don't know if I want this to change. Do you understand what I'm saying? Maybe some of you have come across the situation before and know what I mean? I know that Kaat of the Totally Biased Book and Movie Review, for example, has made one of her blogs private for that very same reason. The slightly schizophrenic part of my quandary is that I wouldn't actually mind telling an audience of complete strangers or blogger friends who know only my "online personality"(whatever that is) all about my horrible habits and hilariously hallucinogenous high-jinks. With people who know me for certain things I do or stand for, however, I'm not so sure. I mean, what will one of my former clients think if they surf hither and find me slagging off life as a trainer or ranting about the absurd situations my previous occupation has put me through? And that is an example I'm not half as worried about as I'd be about some other people reading my personal splurges...

(this image courtesy of www.pawprince.com)

Anyway, at least I've managed to be honest and adress this issue with you here - it has been bugging me and impeding my blogging output greatly in recent weeks. So, there, I've told you - not sure where to go from here, but at least the crazy, worry-worthy part of me that thinks this blog is a conversation with you not a one-way thing is happier now I've come out and been honest. Well, and now that that's done, I think I'll retire for a little more mooching and poring over other people's scribbles... Be safe, y'all!

Sick to the stomach

2007-03-19T21:45:00.000+01:00

We're just having a friend visiting who told us a tale so horrific that I simply have to blog about it, so that maybe I can calm down afterwards. A friend of hers from an idyllic town in Southern Germany, a ninth-grader of sixteen, came home from school looking ill and out-of-sorts last Friday. He wouldn't tell his mother what was wrong for the longest time. What he eventually confessed to was so sickening that I can hardly bear typing it. It turns out that five of his classmates pinned him down during a break between classes and used a broomstick to penetrate him rectally. They didn't even bother to remove his trousers beforehand. The boy in question has suffered both internal and external injuries from the incident, as well as, I presume, severe mental trauma. I simply cannot believe I am writing this. Worst of all, after he had finally given in and told his parents (who rushed him to a doctor), the mother called his school (this school) to report the incident and ask for help. She was told that there was nothing the school would do and that it was up to them, the parents, to ring the offenders' parents or take whatever other action they deemed appropriate. In essence, the school made clear that they were washing their hands of the matter. Now, I repeat, this incident occurred during a school day, inside a classroom on the school's premises, with teachers supposedly responsible for attending to the welfare of this child. I am furious, both with fact that the idea of such action, let alone the execution, should have even entered the minds of a group of smalltown teenagers, and even more with the school board's reaction. In my view, the offending pupils need to be evicted from the school immediately and publicly - that would be the only way to save the school's face, let alone their reputation as somewhere parents would want to send their children to be educated. I am incredulous as to the apparent passivity of the school board and, should things not start happening very quickly, I'm very tempted to call the press. For the sake of the poor victim, I would much rather desist from doing so, though - humiliated and scarred for life as he must already be, the last thing he needs now is attention from the media. However, if it appears that the school is trying to turn a blind eye and shush the incident away, I hereby promise I will do my damnedest and ask you, my readers, for your support in e-mailing the school to let them know that their story has become public. For now, I shall wait and keep you posted on what happens. As I said, the boy in question is a good friend of a friend, so hopefully my information will be up-to-date. Please don't hold back praying for his well-being and recovery (in as much as is possible) as for now...

Walking the walk, talking the talk

2007-03-17T17:09:00.000+01:00

And it's me again! Wanted to share another thing/experience/thingummabob: I done dids me my first ever preaching assignment! What happened was that these nice people from the Jesustreff in Stuttgart invited me over to come teach one night. Tobi, whom I happen to respect and appreciate greatly, suggested I might want to use a sympathetic audience of about 130 young-ish people to try out whether I can hack it with the big boys - you know, save millions of people, change the very face of Christianity, all that. Okay, so that's not what he said at all, but I signed up in my best Dan Dare voice anyway - to boldly go where I'm not entirely sure I'd really wanted to, but anyway... I'm a bit stupid that way - challenge me to something and I'll have the hardest time turning you down (unless its something idiotic like hacking my arm off with a chainsaw), particularly if it's something of the "no guts, no glory" ilk.

(this pic courtesy of www.jesustreff.info)

So! I guess I had sort of wanted to try out this preaching thing. I mean, you know, I wanna preach for a living (sort of) in a few years time, so I might as well try and find out now whether I fit, or whether I shall simply curl up and die when faced with a pulpit and some Bible verses. I really hadn't planned on finding out quite so soon, though... I was dead nervous the closer the big day came. I'd prepared what I hoped would be a twenty minute speech on Exodus 3 and 4 and tried it out on my ever-faithful wife several days before the event. C had a lot of very useful feedback, so I went back and reworked my original script comprehensively Saturday morning (the service was Sunday evening at 6PM). I felt better after that, but still not entirely at ease with what I'd planned. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite pin-point what it was that was making me uncomfortable until Sunday morning, when it suddenly dawned upon me. I guess being accustomed to entertaining audiences, I had instinctively written the first five to ten minutes of my speech as a kind of "gag reel" - a series of puns and glib-sounding witticisms to help me overcome my own nervousness while at the same time aiming to impress the audience with my eloquence and apparent self-confidence. Now, I'm not saying that this is wrong in an entertainment context - I don't know many professional musicians/trainers/stage performers who don't have such a ritual for calming their nerves over the first five to fifteen minutes of a performance, and in a context where you're actively trying to be the centre of an audience's attention, this makes perfect sense. But, and this was something I suddenly realised, preaching isn't supposed to be about me! I believe a preacher's aim should be to glorify God, to encourage his or her audience to focus not upon the speaker, but upon the One whom I believe put me in this place so I could tell others about Him. This realisation, while very welcome and accompanied by a sense of knowing God's will, meant that a fair bit of my plans had just been scrapped, leaving me with, well, not a lot except just facing the audience and looking my own fear in the face. Not a lot, that is, besides the firm belief that somehow, God was going to come through and show me what to say and do if I did my best to be humble and please Him. So - scary stuff! More to follow soon...

Ooga booga umblegumble

2007-03-17T16:28:00.000+01:00

Helloodle! Wow, stuff's been going on while I was away! First, we ("you, me, them... everybody, everybody!") have a new contributor, the fantabulous Beckstar, who has quietly picked up the baton and put in a formidable debut performance. Welcome aboard! Then, I've generally been having a whale of a time this last week, which has been a very welcome change from the sort of semi-lethargic unease I've been under recently. Highlights of the week included (in no particular order):

a full day spent teaching Business English to one of my oldest friends from back home. What blew me away is how much I enjoyed teaching again - couldn't say I've missed it much since I quit last year, so the shock was a pleasant one. Way hay for prepositions and irregular verbforms...

A very pleasurable excursion to Mannheim to see an exhibition on space travel and aerospace technology (a pet subject of mine) at the Landesmuseum für Technik und Arbeit. Went there with bass playing friend Joachim and his girlfriend Svenja. I'm hoping to have some pictures to show from the day soon, as Joe had his brandnew digital camera along with him and snapped away merrily until a security guard told him off...

Finally, a gruelling but worthwhile all-day bicycle tour around Tübingen and the Schönbuch with René, my faithful bro' in arms (like me, he's been places and done things before deciding he wants to be a pastor) was an absolute tonic to my mental and physical diet. I have to admit I wasn't too excited at the idea when crawling out of bed Thursday morning, but the ride itself turned out to be excellent in so many ways that I'm profoundly endebted to my energetic friend and his initiative. Not only did we see some truly beautiful landscape, but we also had great conversation and really enjoyed each other's company (well, at least I did). Best of all, though, has been the tangible aftermath of a whole day's physical exertion and exposure to the elements. I don't remember the last time I've felt as tingly and full of energy as I do right now. Plus, my self-confidence and positive self-awareness have just skyrocketed! No, I've not been feeling particularly good about myself recently, I guess. I'd been wanting to lose weight and get back in shape, but haven't really mustered the initiative, and my morale has suffered accordingly. All this is about to change, I hope. Provided the weather doesn't become quite as horrible as they're forecasting right now, that is. Forecastfox is saying there's to be snow again next week - eeeughh!! I may really have to go pick up that treadmill and start working out indoors... Anyway, having rediscovered the joys of physical exercise is brilliant - I feel all bubbly and vibrant and even a bit attractive again. Yay!

So, yeah, all that's pretty good and I thought I should let you know. What's not good is that some sort of password entry window pops up everytime I load this, my blog's homepage, into Firefox. Not sure what's going on here - has it happened to you, too, dear readers? If so, please let me know - maybe some sort of leechy software has attached itself to the URL and needs combatting? I eagerly await your feedback, possums... And with that, cheerio for now! Be safe, y'alls

Re: Ten Things I like Meme

2007-03-11T04:09:00.000+01:00

hello Readers, I'm beckstar, a friend of eddyquette's and this is a response to being tagged with the meme. So I'm suppose to tell of ten things I like that start with the letter "m". Honestly, I had to do some soul searching to find the jewels I'm about to share with you because the first words that came to mind were things like: mosquitoes, mud, monsters, malaria, measles, meningitis... I never realized how many diseases started with "m". Anyway, this is suppose to be things I like, so here we go:

Music. This one was the most obvious to me and besides the aforementioned diseases was the initial one that came to mind. I love how no matter what you're feeling, you can always find some music that fits the occasion, feeling, and mood. Music is so powerful too, it can lift you up or bring you down, it can make you calm or make you excited... you get the point.
Messy. Explanation: My sister's name is Jessie and when we were young we always had to shared a room. My side of the room was always neat and clean, whereas my sister side was always chaotic and disorganized. My family always teased her saying they named her Jessie so they could call her messy. So I've been calling her Messy since then (though I have exclusive rights to it now--she doesn't allow anyone else to call her that). My sister and I are only 18 months apart and have always had a very close and special relationship.
Mercy. I sure have received a lot of it in my life and though it sounds cliche I have to say it sure makes the world a better place.
My friends and family. Okay, so that's a bit of a cheat. But it isn't any worse than "de ocean" (see below in eddyquette's post, bullet point number 9 !!!) =). What would life be without relationships? I'm guessing pretty dull and empty. I have been amazingly blessed by the friendships I have and I'm pretty much of the opinion that friendships are what bring so much flavor and joy to life.
Margaritas. The other thing that brings flavor and joy to life. Okay, not really, but I do enjoy a drink with friends.
Martial Arts. I started doing Tang Soo Do, a Korean martial art, when I was 11. I've had so much fun over the years practicing this form and being apart of this tradition. And I've met some great people along the way, especially my instructor who has had such a big impact on my life in many ways. Oh, and I'm testing for my 2nd degree black belt on the 17th. Scary!! So if there are any praying people out there, please send a few up for me!
Merriment. I like to have a good time and to laugh and joke around. It's important that if you want to enjoy life not to take it too seriously. I often get so caught up in what I'm doing and the goals I've set for myself, that I forget to "stop and smell the roses", to use a familiar phrase. I appreciate the people in my life that remind me to relax and have fun.
Mysteries. I guess more accurately stated is the process of solving mysteries, but that doesn't start with an "m"... Anyway, this is one of my favorite genre of books and movies. But also in life I love the process of discovering unknown things, especially when it comes to friendships. People, in many ways, are a mystery and it is so much fun as you build friendships to uncover those things. And there's always something to be discovered about a person, no matter how long you've known them, there are always things yet to be learned.
Magnanimous. I just think it's a great word, one of my favorites. It's fun to say and it has a good meaning.
And last but not least, Manhattan. At least I'm hopping I'll like it. I'll be moving there in May to go to school and get my master's degree in nursing. I've been a few times now to visit my sister and have enjoyed it very much, now it only remains to be seen if I can handle living there.

So that's it. Hope I haven't bored you all to much with my rambling. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

beckstar

10 Things I Like Meme

2007-03-05T17:41:00.000+01:00

G'day y'all! See, like I said, the semester break is helping with the blogfreude (a Freudian term totally unrelated to Schadenfreude) - here I am with a meme gifted to me by the wonderful Wendz, whose blog is a staple of my reading diet. I'm to tell you about 10 things I like beginning with the letter "D". Well, hopefully that should be easy, so here goes: in no particular order whatsoever, I like:

"D" for Drums and everything percussion-related: Playing drums was and is my first musical love. For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to play drums. I used to arrange a motley collection of pots, cans, plastic canisters, etc. in my Dad's workshop in the cellar and hammer away at them for hours when I was about seven or eight. I spent countless hours practicing cross-hand playing to the music from my little portable tape player (my parents felt that Cliff Richard, the Beatles and selected other rock'n roll was "safe" for me to listen to. I can still sing most of Little Richard's repertoire by heart until today, instrumental solos included). Having gone through years of piano, recorder and violin lessons, I will never forget the heart-pounding exhilaration of sitting behind a proper drumkit for the first time. Learning to make the music in my head become a reality audible to the rest of the world has been my continued and ongoing passion ever since.

"D" for Diplomacy and tact: One thing I really enjoy, a challenge I savour whenever the opportunity arises, is to try and encourage people with different backgrounds/opinions/mindsets to work together successfully and for their common good. I equally enjoy trying to help people prepare for the challenges that may arise from working in, say, an intercultural setting, preparing and coaching them as they go through various phases of developping rapport with, for example, two teams from different cultures that they have to coordinate. I love the thrill of understanding other people's mindsets, their ways of thinking, etc. and trying to create successful compromise or cooperation between parties from different sides based on my understanding. I guess it comes from having lived in a sort of interim between the English and German culture ever since I can remember. Anyway, it's fun! To me.

"D" for Driving: I may have this in common with many guys, but somewhere within me is a wannabe long-distance truck driver, blasting his airhorns as my eighteen-wheeler rolls into the sunset, cruising by day and night across endless expanses of landscape on my mission to deliver freight from one end of the world to another. There's few everyday things I like as much as getting behind the wheel for a cruise, be it going from A to B, running errands, driving long distances (my fave) or just driving for the heck of it. Yes, I read car magazines (infrequently) and long for a powerful, rear-drive car with great handling. Yes, I go "phwoar" whenever I see a Ferrari or other exotica. Yes, I know nerdy details about (European) cars like model range, engine capacity, horsepower rating and 0-60 times. Plus, I pride myself on being a good driver. So, yeah, driving rocks!

"D" for daftness (hope that counts): Humour, humour and more humour is one of my key drugs that keep me ticking and tocking as I trundle along life's highways and byways. Anything from good old Fawlty Towers to Little Britain, Douglas Adams to Lynne Truss, Craig Ferguson to Tim Minchin has me grinning, chortling or falling about the room. I've no idea how I'd survive without my laughs and strive hard to share them with the world around me. Most of the time people say they don't mind, so I trust at least some of my jokes must be grin-worthy.

"D" for dancing: I will my shake my booty with reckless abandon at the drop of a hat. Cheesy dance moves - I'll show you a few if you don't have any... I know this isn't very manly - men typically avoid dancefloors, except if they're hoping to find a partner. However, I've always enjoyed moving and shaking and have learnt to overcome most of my inhibition in doing so. Bring on the music, I say!

"D" for, err, drinking fine Scottish whiskey. I love a good dram of single malt in the evening. Not every evening and not necessarily at a party. But for a nice quiet evening with friends, some jazz music to nod my head to and relaxed conversation, I couldn't think of a better drink. Neat or on ice? I'll take either, thanks.

"D" for discipline and dedication. One quality I really admire in others and strive for myself is discipline. The fact that I'm striving for it should tell you that I may not yet be very good at it. But I'm getting there, and that's got to be a good thing.

"D" for the Divine: I'm a Christian, and the single most important thing in my life, the reason I get up every morning and don't despair, is my growing faith in a loving God who wants me to live. I probably don't fit some people's definition of a Christian - as stated above, I drink alcohol, I swear sometimes, and I'm far from being perfect in many other ways. But the God I find in the Bible (and the one I meet every day in my prayers, in nature's beauty and in the interaction with my fellow human beings) is one who makes it very clear to me that His grace and forgiveness come first and before all other things. Yes, I am trying to be a better, more Christ-like person, but that's because I've found I love God so much that I actually want to change my ways, not because I have to. So, my faith is a source of joy and not of stress and hassle to me. Therefore, yay for the Divine!

"D" for De Ocean (yes, I know - horribly lame, but I couldn't think of anything closer to home). I am a sea person. If there's one environment I dream about pretty much every night, it has to be the sea. My dream home would be somewhere on the coast of, say, Southern France (preferrably between Collioure and Argeles). Or then again, maybe a house on the cliffs down in Cornwall? A pretty colonial style mansion by the Baltic? One of those preposterous right-on-the-very-beach bungalows over in California? A windswept artist's den with huge windows overlooking the rough waters off the Hebrides? Tell you what - I'll have 'em all, please. Oh, and a boat would be nice, while you're at it...

"D" for dreaming - be it day or night, I've always had a knack at imagining or envisioning the unreal. Possibly the by-product of a somewhat solitary childhood, I can spend quite unseemly amounts of time in the inner world of my imagination. Obviously, this has upsides and drawbacks; being able to relax easily by taking off on flights of fancy or writing songs without ever going near an actual instrument is great. Catching myself (or being caught) talking to myself in all sorts of situations definitely goes on the "con", and of course my biggest challenge in life is learning to make those dreams that really matter to me become reality. Gosh, that sounds cheesy, but it really is something I'm working on - getting from "I wish" to "I will", if you know what I mean...

Anyway, thanks very much for reading this meme. It's been fun writing it and I hope it may tell you a little more than you already knew about me. As memes go, I guess I'm supposed to tag others now that I'm done. Basically, I think I shall go with Wendz's orginal idea, which is that I'll be happy to tag you if you leave a comment asking me to. Other than that, I'm hereby tagging kneecaps with the letter "F". And beckstar, you're tagged with an "M" (or choose another if you can't think of 10 items). You can either do the meme in a separate post or in a comment on this post. Rightyho, that's all fer now, possums - let's see if Blogger agrees with my formatting...

Oh me oh my

2007-03-01T22:14:00.000+01:00

Heh everybody - sorry, it has been a while, hasn't it? I do have good news, though - I passed my Hebrew exams and am now officially one step closer to becoming a pastor. Woohoo! This trying-to-fill-my-brain-with-knowledge thing has been intense, though - I feel as drained and empty as a dried-out sponge and am trying to recuperate. I'm afraid I haven't felt up to much posting so far and, to be quite honest, I'm not exactly bobbing with excitement right now. Sorry, folks - I'm just worn out and in need of a bit of a rest. I will try to make the most of my semester break blogging-wise as soon as I feel a little fresher, but for now thank you for your patience. I do appreciate your interest: I just don't feel I have much to say right now (you ask my wife - I've been really quiet the last couple of days). I'll be back when things are better, okay? Cheerio meanwhile, possums.

Denglish daftness

2007-02-10T12:34:00.000+01:00

Hello there, my frisky little ponies (can you tell I've been at the Craig Ferguson again?)! Not really that much to say right now - I'm still slaving away at my Hebrew classes until the end of next week. For now, all I could think of was to share the kind of mindless wit that strikes my addled brain every now and then. More specifically, the dinner I made for myself last night sparked a thought. See, I heated up a sausage for myself that I'd found in the freezer. This particular sausage is, well, I guess, something like a Wiener except it has a cheese filling for added flavour. Nice stuff, but the funnest thing about it (for Englishers) is it's German name. They call them (drum roll):

(image courtesy of www.ullrichs-putenhof.de)

Käseknacker - cheese knackers! No, okay, so the "knack" thing translates as "crunch" or "crack", but it's still funny in my mind. Yup folks, I had cheesy knackers for dinner last night! Also fun in this context is the name Germany has bequeathed upon Walt Disney characters the Beagle Boys. These are called:

(image courtesy of www.wikipedia.org)

The Panzerknackers! Nice, eh? I'm very tempted to make fun of my good friend Johannes' new home town and it's name at this point, but for reasons of taste I will desist (okay, so here's the town's website, if you must). Anyway, cheerio y'all and have a nice weekend!

Teenage memories

2007-01-30T00:21:00.000+01:00

Prompted by both a guilty conscience and a kind reminder from Wendz, whose terrific blog I've been visiting frequently of late, here's a proper post, written by a somewhat tired eddyquette at a time when I should really be in bed, I guess. Anyway, I did promise I'd write about something personal and autobiographic, so here goes... This image shows my home town of Brackenheim - I forget where I found it, sorry. Anyway, what I'm going to tell you about is a memory that came back to me the other day - the kind of memory that makes you smile and cringe at the same time (at least, if you're me, it does). I was thinking, recently, of "all the girls I've loved before" (thank you, Willie Nelson) - the flings, flirts and partnerships that made me me, that seemed so terribly important at the time. No, I'm not generally one for nostalgia as the vast majority of my growing-up memories still have me flinching until today. But anyway... I remembered the very first girl I was ever officially "together" with, and the goofy circumstances and rigmarole that went with the whole matter. I must have been about 15 at the time, and had developed this crush on a very attractive girl two forms down (Year Seven). I didn't really know her, but I knew her name (I'm going to call her "Lilith", a name so un-German as to make it completely unrealistic within the context) and, most importantly, I saw her every single schoolday, for about 20 minutes. Oh, the excitement of that! A couple of friends of mine had developed this regular spot where we'd hang out during the mid-morning break from classes. We'd be there every morning, and, much to our delight, "Lilith" and several of her friends, most of whom were quite pretty, would come and hang out about 30 yards from us, on the other side of the schoolyard. From our respective vantage points, we'd talk among our own little groups and, of course, stare across at the other group to see what they were up to, whether they were looking at us, etc. Now, as I said, I'd developed this crush on "Lilith", a pretty brunette with a ponytail and vivid blue eyes. She, in turn, appeared to have taken at least a bit of a shine to me so that, within the limits of our own courage, we must have spent quite a lot of time sneaking looks at each other, trying not to get caught by the other's gaze yet secretly hoping they might be interested. Now, a guy from my class happened to know one of the other girls from the little group quite well and it was he who assured me that Lilith's friend had said Lilith had a crush on me, too. I tell you - I was so excited, I barely slept at night, and all I could think of were those beautiful, sparkling eyes and that dazzling smile of hers. Oh, and her (real) name, of course... There was only one hitch to my romantic dalliance; never in my life would I have actually worked up the courage to walk across that schoolyard and approach the object of my dreams. It might have been a mere 30 yards that separated us physically, but in my mind it might as well have been an ocean. Even though I "knew" my love might be requited, there was no way in heaven or hell I was going to face up to that. Nuh-uh, not me. I'd always been a bit shy, not thought of myself as being particularly attractive, never dared to imagine myself as a bit of a stud. None of my friends had ever had a girlfriend before and I would have stuck out like a sore thumb on that schoolyard (or so I thought at the time). Plus, I was in mid-puberty and as self-conscious as a boy can be. So, even though I was madly in love and believed to know "she" felt the same, it was stale-mate for me and this, I thought, was how things would stay. In fact, I was fairly happy for it to be so - quite honestly, I wouldn't have known what on earth to say to her, how to act, what to do with each other if confronted with the reality of a face-to-face conversation. The funny thing is, I didn't think of myself as a "late bloomer" or anything at the time - like I said, my friends were in the same situation and, like me, had no immediate plans for change. So anyway, guess how surprised I was when, several days of longing stares later, a note arrived via my classmate, addressed to both him and me. (This has me actually grinning in retrospect - the efficient thinking behind two girls writing just one note to two guys) In it, a girl whom he fancied AND my beloved Lilith had had posed us that all-important question of the time; did we want to "go out" (i.e. be boyfriends) with them? Amusingly, they had opted to give us an easy method of response, intending presumably to avoid unnecessary embarrassment. It was a multiple-choice note - underneath the question, there were tick-boxes labelled "yes", "no" or, in case we weren't sure, "perhaps". Of course, we both emphatically made our marks in the "yes" box... That night, I didn't sleep a wink. We were together! I had no idea what to do, but was delirious with emotion, mostly nervousness lashed with joy and excitement. What would happen next? Would I get to kiss my first girl? Would we hold hands? Would I get to stare into those beautiful eyes from close up? What would I do? What would I say? Did I really have what it takes to pull this whole thing off somehow? What would my friends say? I got more and more nervous as the morning drew by and we neared the famous 20 minute break. Rushing down to my accustomed spot, there she was with her friends, all tittering and chuckling among themselves. Suddenly, I was hit by a wave of uneasiness and shock; what if it had been a joke, a hoax concocted to embarrass me? What if they were laughing at the note right now, guffawing at my naiveté? All I could manage was to stare at Lilith. She in turn looked back at me, our eyes meeting openly for a few seconds. I looked away. She had acknowledged me! I looked again. Oh God, she was still looking my way! Again, our eyes met and this time, we looked at each other a little longer. Waves of bliss and elation coursed through me - this, surely, was the most exciting thing I'd ever experienced. Then, all too soon, the bell rang and recess was over. Away we walked to our respective classrooms, casting a sneak peak or two over our shoulders to see whether the other one was still looking. God, the excitement! I thought I was never going to be the same again - I felt older, cooler, groovier, superior to my mates, bursting with pride that I had something they could only dream of. I was officially in love with a girl! I kept my little secret to myself that day and didn't tell anyone. The next morning, when break time rolled around, the situation of the day before repeated itself. Again, her friends were chatting and even pointing my way, which made me way too nervous to even consider an approach. I had, by then, worked out her phone number, though, and told my friends all about our "involvement" there and then. Of course, this was done in between stares and shy smiles across the yard. After school, I spent all afternoon trying to work up the courage to ring Lilith. Eventually, I managed to dial and not put the receiver down before hearing the beep. Her Dad picked up the phone - in a blind panic, I slammed it down, gasping with the shock of my own audacity. You may think I'm making this up, by the way, but that really is the way it was, I promise. I felt I'd grown at least several inches in those couple of days - after all, I had a real girlfriend, an attractive female who'd shown interest in me. No, so we hadn't even exchanged as much as a "hello", but in my mind (and in the eyes of my mates), I ruled the little roost of my peer group. Heck, I was groovy and high on imaginary romance. Thinking back, the fact that I felt so involved with a person I'd never spoken to, never touched or held, makes me smile and wonder at my own behaviour. I guess my imagination had always played a big part in things (and still does), but the absurdity of my thinking still makes me laugh/cringe today. Anyway, to sum things up, our (my) imaginary relationship lasted for a full week after which Lilith informed me (via a second and final written note) that she was breaking up with me and that we were over. The funny thing to me now is how she would have used such language when all she was ending was a non-existent relationship. At least, if nothing else it shows me that maybe I wasn't the only one of us with a vivid imagination...

2007-01-22T20:40:00.000+01:00

Hi folks, Yes, I do plan to do a proper post this week, too, but as a little prequel (and because I liked the idea, as seen on Wendz excellent blog), here's something I just learnt about myself: My Inner Hero - Paladin! I strive to help others, and to bring truth and harmony to the world however I can. Whether times are good or bad, you can always count on me. I'm a shoulder to cry on, a champion for the helpless, and an all around nice person. How about you? Click here to find your own inner hero. No, I didn't know either, but apparently I'm the above. I shall desist from sarky commentary on who I allegedly am (though you may feel free to add some of your own), and instead ask you, my willing readership: What inner hero are you? Please don't hesitate to comment and I shall add your hero status to the post (if you'd like me to). Cheerio! Okay, folks, so here's some of the results y'alls have sent in: Slartibartfast is a Paladin. René is a Paladin, too. Kneecaps, however, is a warrior. It's good to have one of those on your team!

Dear Deutsche Bahn...

2007-01-15T16:47:00.000+01:00

(image courtesy of wikipedia) ...I'm trying to like you. No, really - I am. Having forfeited the comfort and luxury of my own personal means of transport in order to partake of your more eco-friendly and slightly less wallet-voiding fare, I'll admit my expectations weren't too high even at the beginning of our on-a-daily-base hoohah. But hey - that way (I thought) I could at worst be positively surprised if things turned out to be better than what all my commuter friends were telling me. And no, none of us are perfect - I'm not blaming you for the once or twice I've managed to miss one of your trains because I was late. Not even when that same train service had failed to be punctual for the entire week prior to my little slip-up (grey ice encountered while flying down a very steep hill on a bicycle can be a treacherous thing, I've come to find), meaning that I wasn't expecting sudden on-the-dot-ness. No, honestly, that'd be okay with me, and I'm not complaining about your service personnel, either - your conductors' behaviour and general demeanour in their snazzy little captain's uniforms and leather jackets has improved immeasurably since you fired, oh, about two thirds of them and threatened the remainder with public emasculation should they ever stop smiling. What does, err, grate a little is things like the two trains you cancelled mere minutes before their planned departure (we're talking two to five minutes here, not 10 or even 15) on a busy Friday evening between five and six o' clock PM when I desperately, desperately wanted to get home. That extra hour of waiting was, I fear, something of a downer. I mean, look - it's not that I don't like your train stations, their architecture or the range of ludicrously over-priced convenience/bakers/book stores they house. It's just the fact that I pay a heck of a lot of money for my monthly ticket (as do the many new "friends" I've made on my travels recently - the alcoholic carpenter with the bad breath, the cheaply suited businessman who shouts into his mobile every morning as we ride, the gaggle of school children whose screams and constant jostling keep me "on my toes" so very literally each day) and had previously come to associate the payment of money for service as a means of ensuring I'm treated well. See, to return for a moment to that pesky car of mine - yes, it does use quite a lot of petrol, but in return when I press down on that accelerator, it goes. And I mean, "goes", as in it'll start up every time, it'll sprint when I'm in a hurry, it'll keep me safe and even as warm or cold as I like. And it'll play music for me, too, and here I can actually exert control over the volume of what I hear. Unlike the messages your train drivers massage my ears with each morning - those come in endless variations of two basic themes. Either it's the "unintelligible mutterings" type where the microphone is niftily covered (I assume) with several layers of protective cloth, handkerchiefs and maybe other heavy muffling items before the speaker on duty proceeds to declamate a series of words which I doubt even the speakers' own mates could decipher. Imperative for this approach is that whoever's "on duty" must adopt a regional accent heavy enough to mask whatever combination of syllables they are uttering to the utmost extent. For further effect, I believe some drivers actually carry tin funnels or similar kitchen implements in order to further distort the sound of their voice. Also, I'm pretty sure I caught one driver leaning out of the side window with his mic in hand while he delivered his morning speech last Thursday. Anyway, the other type is the "bawl" or "blare" (depending on loudspeaker size and proximity). This, unlike the muttering, may be delivered in an intelligible accent and without trying to mask whatever message it is that should be conveyed. There are only two imperatives: one is that one must turn the Klaxon/public address system all the way up to maximum (German train speakers, it seems, go somewhere even higher than eleven)and the speech must be delivered with lips almost touching the mic. The second (occasionally neglected) point is that, at some point with the delivery of said message, the speaker is required either to invent a new word or phrase by making a complete hash of what they were supposed to say, or else they must run out of breath, switch of the mic for a second, then turn it back on and pick up wherever they left off. "Trains will be delayed by se-"(pause for two seconds) "veral minutes this morning..." You get the picture. So, what I'm saying is: I'll try to take it on the chin, put up with your, err, "eccentricities" and forgive and forget for now. See, I do want to like you and keep believing that I'm doing the right thing here. I can't promise at this point, though, that my patience won't start running thin unless things improve at least a little... Yours daily, eddyquette

Oo-err, its been a while....

2006-12-29T17:48:00.000+01:00

So, hello again and, with some delay, merry happy Christmahannukwanzakah to all of you! Yes, I'm terribly, teary-eyedly sorry for the extended silence gone between this and the post before it, but, as always, I was busy. Yes, I know, yada yada yada and stop being self-important. But its true! Anyway, here I am again (boiiing) and there's stuff to tell you about, too.

(This pic was taken by my friend Joe Knorpp, who holds the rights to it)

So, let's start with something akin to the "Cover Combo Caveat" mini-series we did a while ago. Lovely, furry, cuddly friend Ralf (okay, sorry, so I couldn't think of suitable adjectives. He's a nice guy - hope you got that impression at least) sent me a youtube link, the content of which I cannot resist posting here for y'alls enjoyment. It features an occurance that I had, in fact, heard stories about before and that kind of sums up the kind of personality/style/taste (or complete lack of it) it takes if you want to hack it with the wedding band crowd. I trust Siggi (the guy in the vid) has recovered fully from his, err, "error of judgment" and is wooing crowds at an anniversary/a birthday party/a stag do somewhere near you as we speak. Rock on, dude! Enjoy, y'all... Yes, so what else? Oh yes, I wanted to tell you about the gig I got to play with my good friends Billy and Hannah on Boxing Day at this little festival back in my home town. I'm awaiting a Skype-load of pictures from the gig as I write and will drop one or two in as soon as they arrive. Anyway, it was a lot of fun and very rewarding. The whole project (the three of us playing under the moniker of "Lawrence Goodman Scheck") was intended as a one-off originally. However, we've had so much positive feedback and enjoyed working together so much that we're seriously considering a continuation, maybe even an album. To that end, obviously, the first thing you need is a website (forget musical talent, creativity, etc. Webspace rules!). If anyone wants to throw some hints my way concerning webhosting/renting webspace, please don't hesitate to do so. eddyquette(at)gmail.com's the word...

Fobbing you off, possums...

2006-12-14T07:46:00.000+01:00

'Elloello! Normally, you would be expecting a post from me, wouldn't you? After all, it's Thursday and usually, by about Thursday, I manage to get some sort of rant done and publish it for your entertainment/annoyance. But not today, mwuahahaha... I'm in a heckofa hurry (again) this week and don't know where to find the time to post. Itz not for lack of wanting, trust me - there'd be loads to tell you about, starting with the beautiful sunrise right outside my window here this morning and continuing with a series of posters I'm trying to photograph on my way to uni which I find quite clever (the posters, not my efforts at snapping). I would then like to continue by telling you how several American secret services and MI5 contacted me over the last few days in an attempt to get me to work for them due to my flawless language abilities and slick accents. (This last claim, obviously, would be bogus, but then even if it were true I couldn't tell you, else I'd have to kill you afterwards. And how would I be doing that over the internets, huh?) My continued blogpost-I-wish-I-were-writing would continue to amuse you with accounts of the great party I'm going to attend at the weekend (my friend Joe is back from Morocco) and end on a quote which, while rather rude, I find absolutely brilliant in terms of creative use of the English language. The quote is from an unlikely source, namely Top Gear magazine (not otherwise known for it's verbosity or eloquence). The teaser headline for an article describing the launch of a new model by Lotus (car maker based in Hethel, Norfolk, England), a company perennially semi-bankrupt and always on the brink of disaster, read "Norfolking hope". I have no clue as to whether this is an original idea or a quote, but dare say I found the use of language quite inspired.... Okay, I'll try to do a post proper soon, cheerio meanwhile!

Bite-size

2006-12-07T09:46:00.000+01:00

Notimenotimenotimenotime! Aaagh! It's that time of the year again, isn't it, readers mine? The time when you're s'posed to be jolly and rosy-cheeked and lovin' it whereas in reality you're puffing and panting and almost losin' it. At least, if you're me, you are. I really don't know WHAT people here in Germany mean when they wish you "besinnliche Adventstage" (trying to translate besinnlich - something like "calming and insightful"). I for one am flat-out almost day and night at the moment trying to keep up with university, my marriage, household chores, social obligations and trying to bash preparations for some seasonal giggery into shape. Billy, Hannah and I play at this small festival on Boxing Day. Should be a lot of fun, but it does take preparation, especially as we manage ourselves and therefore have to do tons of negotiating and e-mailing back-and-forth with the event organisers.

(NOT Father Christmas, yesterday)

So, I'm not complaining about the way things are as such, I'm just wondering why people would think of this as "the best time of the year" and all that. Ho ho ho indeed. Well, and with that, I must up and catch my train to university, then go cram and do some gift shopping, then meet up with friends tonight at the Christmas market... Cheerio, possums!

Catch a whiff of this!

2006-11-30T15:24:00.000+01:00

Hey y'all, just wanted to share one of those silly moments with you that keeps me amused for hours on end. "Confessions of a fevered mind", maybe...

(Morning and a foggy sunrise, snapped waiting for a connecting train on Monday)

While in situ in our small room the other day, my eyes strayed upon an aerosol air-freshener that lives underneath the washbasin. Lo and behold, this is the brand name emblazoned across it's top:

(courtesy, naturally, of www.barfin.de)

Best of all, my particular can says "Barfin' Line" on it. And there's a picture of a bobbing dolphin beneath it (I tried to take a picture, but my camera is rubbish). Whether there is any relation between the bobbin' and the barfin is beyond me, of course... Sad, sad, sad, I know. But hey - it made me laugh, so I thought I'd share it with you. Enjoy! And just imagine the small talk at parties: "So, what do you do all day?" "Oh, just the usual - barfin' aerosols & cosmetics, designing new smells and the like...".

'Cos you're beautiful, no matter what they say...

2006-11-23T22:09:00.000+01:00

Flawlessly integrating (read: nicking other people's ideas without asking) what Parlancheq has done into my own befuddled musings, here's a fun thing.

Your Hair Should Be Purple

Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional. You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

So, readers mine, what's your colour?

Blogorhea - binge blogging while I can

2006-11-23T21:02:00.000+01:00

And another one (can you tell I'm on my own tonight?); wanted to share with you how I was reminded of how cruel humans can be, even as children. Coming home from uni earlier this week, I was walking to my bike when I came upon the following scenario: a little dark-haired girl of maybe three years was crouched on the edge of a grass patch next to the train tracks, whimpering in apparent terror. Fifty yards away, her older sister (I assume) of maybe six or seven was standing by the fence that separates the grass from the rails, holding a bright yellow ball (presumably the little girl's) over the top of the fence and repeatedly motioning as if she were going to drop it onto the tracks beyond where it would have been irretrievably out of reach for both girls. The smaller girl (who looked stunningly like pictures of my beloved C at that age) was pleading with her older sister not to do what she was feigning to, while the older girl was taunting her. After about half a minute (in which I watched, dumb-struck), the older girl tired of the game a little. Her younger sister picked herself up off the grass, ran over and, after much pleading, was given the ball back (I think the older sister had noticed me glaring at her by then) and the two walked off, the older sister still bullying the younger one and teasingly attempting to take the ball away again and again. The older girl was clearly stronger and quicker than her little sister and was obviously finding satisfaction in making the her younger sister's life painful. I tell you - my heart went out to that younger girl so much - my first instinct was to go and giving the older one a right good shouting-at for being so mean. I'm still not sure whether or not I'm glad I didn't do so. Anyway, it highlighted so vividly to me how cruelty is inherent in human behaviour from the earliest stages of life. I'm sure the older sister is lovely and every bit as worthy of tender affection as her younger sibling seemed to me at the time - that's the sad bit somehow. We all seem to have this in-built capability to act evilly, regardless of who we are most of the time. Hackneyed sayings about dog-eat-dog and the like spring to mind by the dozen, of course... In a sense, I'm almost amused at the extremeness of my own reaction to the observed. I mean, mocking each other is something kids will do all the time (as will grown-ups, I suppose) and certainly, there could have been worse things than losing a small plastic ball. Nevertheless, I was completely overwhelmed with sympathy for the younger girl and flaming anger at the older one. Funny how small things can affect you sometimes...

Honesty, is such a lonely word

2006-11-23T20:49:00.000+01:00

I've had a guy (who I'm pretty sure doesn't read my blog) tell me three times that I'm a bit fat recently. He does so in no uncertain tones (though he did do a kind of shimmy-and-dance, trying to make it sound less harsh routine before actually saying it today) and doesn't seem to worry whether or not this might offend me. And no, aspiring stiff-upper-lipper though I am, I don't think I managed to conceal my, err, displeasure at being told his opinion. Thing is, I like the guy and I know he isn't saying it to offend, he's simply saying it because it's on his mind and what he thinks is what he tells you, willy-nilly. Shame, really - I don't have the heart to kick him back, neither verbally nor otherwise(even though that would be blatantly easy). So, I do my best to forgive and love him for what he is. But it ain't easy sometimes...

The "no fair" airline

2006-11-23T20:01:00.000+01:00

Hey y'all. No song lyrics in the header tonight, no sirree. Yours truly wishes to express annoyance with this post, and I wanted to make that clear right from scratch. I'm hacked-off. Okay, not quite that bad, but I do feel a fair amount of indignation, and whom better to share it with than you, my loyal readership? Okay, so here's the story.

(obviously, this is from www.mal-nach-Marokko.de, as are the other pics)

At the risk of repeating myself, I have been closely following the exploits of my good friends Johannes and Gundula, who set out earlier this year on a bicycle tour from Germany to Morocco. (here's the link to their travel website) In fact, I've had the privilege of having been able to assist my friends with some minor logistical issues during their travels. I knew they must be pretty near their destination, so was all the more surprised when Joe skype-called me late last Saturday night (we'd been up watching a movie with C's sister, who was visiting) to ask for help. Their dilemma was the following; they had booked return flights to Germany from Marrakech with a certain low-fare carrier of Irish origin, planning well ahead and taking advantage of online booking facilities. Now, while they were already on the road, an e-mail arrived informing them that the airline in question was not going to fly them home after all "due to an outstanding Open Skies agreement" that meant their flight was cancelled. So far, so dandy. They were offered a refund or the option of rebooking to another destination. This was what Joe was asking me to do; to liaise with his Dad on getting all the relevant information, then basically make sure a rebooked flight would get them back to Germany in time for several important appointments. Now, the airline in question only flies to one German airport and, with all flights on that route cancelled until further notice, I was going to need to get them to another European destination like, say, Barcelone or London, then get a connecting flight to Germany. I assumed that, since the cancellation e-mail expressly stated rebooking was possible, it would be the easiest thing in the world. I was wrong, of course. So, after gathering all the information necessary (it transpired that a flight to one London airport, then a connecting flight from another, would be the only feasible option), I rang the booking/information hotline. After having listened to an easy two minutes' worth of call-centre drivel (and getting kicked out of the queue), the Irish voice at the other end made it clear in no uncertain terms that there was, in fact, no way this airline was going to get my friends home from the Sahara. Yes, they would re-book the flight from Marrakech to London, but wouldn't do the connecting flight, let alone the bus fare for the airport transfer. My protests that hey, they had screwed up and therefore it was (kind of) their responsibility to get my friends out of the Sahara desert, that both my friends and I had been loyal and frequent users of the airline, etc., fell upon dead ears. Nope, there was ab-so-lunkly no way they were going to budge from doing the absolute minimum they could. And no, they didn't care whether or not we would ever use the carrier again afterwards ("that's for you to know, sir"). How nice is that??? I don't remember ever being told to eff off before, but that's, I think, as close as I'd care to get to it. Grrr! I was very tempted, I'll tell you now, to try and incite some sort of revolution - to ask all of you to spam the helpline with a scripted phone call pressuring them to help my friends or something. To start an "I'll never fly with you lot again - here's my vote" website or something. Shame I'm such a craven polite backer-down, really. Anyway, at least I've told all of you how I feel - it's a start, eh?

Three, that's the magic number

2006-11-15T23:29:00.000+01:00

So, here's a first for me; I'm going to pick up a meme from Parlancheq's blog. More specifically, the Three by Three Childhood Moments That Made Me Me meme really appeals to me somehow (I probably don't want to think about why this is so), so here I go. Sorry if the formatting (line breaks, etc.) doesn't come out right - if somebody wants to explain to me how I can get Blogger to believe my html tags, please feel free to comment. Okay, here goes: I. Infant and Toddler Years

I'm told I was a quiet, earnest sort of kid, unlike my older sister who cried and fussed a lot, apparently. An aunt of mine used to worry about both of us, though - I can remember her long and melancholy face leaning over us saying "SUCH solemn children, I don't know..." I don't remember her ever hugging me or doing anything to actually improve the situation, but then almost all my memories of aunts and uncles are of somber, grey-faced distant people I was told to be quiet around.
I learnt German in kindergarten (my parents only talked English with my sis' and me until the age of three) from the other kids. I remember none of this, but I do remember answering the question whether I was protestant or catholic with an insistent "I'm German!" and being confused. I can remember being terrified by German carnival (it was celebrated with a fancy dress day at the kindergarten), crying and wanting to go home. Then again, I was the only kid without a costume 'cos my parents didn't believe it was a good thing to celebrate carnival, so maybe I just felt left out.
My best friend Kai lived in the flat right above my parents' one. The only thing we didn't do together was when I fell off the top of his bunk bed head-first and got concussion (he didn't join me on that one). Yes, I know that explains many things (having dinged my bonce so hard so early in life)... He and I were inseparable until my parents bought a house and we moved away.

II. Elementary School Years

Not wanting to sound too melodramatic here, but I "didn't get out much" as a school kid. My Mum made us stay at home and play on our own quite a lot. This was (I understand) because she believed it would be good for us to learn to enjoy solitude and our own company at an early age. I suppose it was influential in giving me a wild-fire, lively imagination and thinking about it, maybe it's one reason for my habit of talking to myself when I'm alone, which I find immensely irritating... I guess it also helped me discover and foster my love of books, which has to be a "pro". Also, I really, really value time spent with friends now - that may also be an offshoot.
One of my clearest memories from primary school is of standing up to a teacher who I felt was doing me wrong. Quite where I found the courage to do so is beyond me, but this lady would always call me "Eduardo" in a fake Spanish accent, which I hated. I know I had asked her not to do so politely and quietly before (I remember her as a wily character who would act pretty much at random, throwing chalk and sets of keys at pupils when angry, etc. She once hit me on the head with those keys - do you see a recurring theme here? Cranium-hard stuff interface seems to have been influential in my development). Anyway, she did it again, making the whole class laugh. Okay, so I probably hadn't been paying attention. But anyway, I got up and told her right there that if she called me "Eduardo" again, I would call her "Biene Mayer", a comedy version of her surname. This time, the laughs were on my side and, though I can't remember her immediate reaction, I know that she stopped hassling me after that. Today, I can not fathom for the life of me what gave me the gall to face off with her in such a way, but I swear I did it then - ask my parents!
I know I was a terrible liar as a primary school kid. I told all my friends loads of lies about places I'd been on holiday, exciting stuff I'd done, etc. Where I got the ideas/inspiration for my stories I can only guess as we didn't even have a TV at the time (my parents' philosophy again), but I know I felt inferior to many of my class-mates and I guess imagining stuff was my way of compensating.

III. Adolescence Years

I loved most of my years as a teenager. And no, I don't believe there's too much nostalgia tinging that comment. There was some awkward stuff, like having spots and being rebellious, but overall I have overwhelmingly positive memories. I guess that in itself ought to give one cause for concern... I had a large group of friends (no more stay-at-home enforcement) whom I loved, I finally got to play drums like I'd always wanted, etc. I think I really was that most unlikely of oxymorons, a happy teenager. Now, how weird is that?
Speaking of love: I was madly in love with the daughter of our town mayor, a crush that lasted for several years. Needless to say, my affection was unrequited - she went on to move to California and marry a millionaire (no, I'm not making this up). Efforts made to impress the target of my youthful affection included, as I remember, drawing countless pictures of horses for her (she liked horses) and firing a paper wad from a rubber-band slingshot that ricocheted off the blackboard mere inches from the English teacher's head. That certainly got me into trouble...
Trouble. Maths. Me. More Trouble. Third in my list of head-related moments (and the most irritating) was the treatment bestowed upon me the headmaster of our school who taught maths in Year Nine. So yes, I was the class dunce in arithmetics, no competition. I doubt, however, whether slapping the back of my head repeatedly whenever he was near me and happened not to give a correct answer helped much. "Light rapping of the head increases your thinking ability" was his mantra. For fairness sakes', I fear he simply didn't know better - he was quite an unhappy person prone to bouts of uncontrolled anger and feared by colleagues and pupils alike. And yes, I have forgiven him, so we're okay (he passed a few years ago).

Right, that's all, folks. As far as tagging other people, I'd love to tag a.ndy, but doubt I will be granted the honour of a response. Oh yes, kneecaps, you're tagged, of course. Anyone else please feel free to write a comment, in which case it'd be a pleasure to tag your, err, tail... Cheerio!

People get ready, there's a train coming

2006-11-14T20:07:00.000+01:00

Well, great. My very first day on public transport trying to get from our sleepy little commuter town to university in Tübingen and presto, the Deutsche Bahn is dishing up a spicy potpourri from it’s limitless repertoire of possible glitches. Now, of course you hear about such things all the time when talking to train-riding commuter friends here in Germany, but I happen to be half-British, which by default makes me a bit of an eternal optimist. Also, the fact that Germans love few things as much as an excuse (ANY excuse) for a bit of a moan has made me, let’s say, a little suspicious of the overbearingly negative view people seem to take of our train system.

(this little beauty NOT courtesy of Deutsche Bahn. www.fraenkische-schweiz.com is a steaming hot site, obviously)

Soooo… I got there early (a good start). Then, the ticket machine wasn’t having any of my money and kept telling me the note I was trying to use was not a quantity it accepted. Irritatingly, this message was accompanied by a flashing arrow pointing me towards a sign that said the machine would accept exactly the type of note I was holding. Anyway… I made it to a second machine, then up onto the platform with a minute or two to spare. I dare say I was surprised at the amount of people milling about there (we’re only a small town after all). This was explained when I finally realised that the subtle whispering noises emitting from a loudspeaker were in fact announcements to tell everyone that all trains this morning were expected to have about 20 minutes’ delay “or more”. Yay! Dig it! Fortunately, I had been wary enough to leave myself over an hour’s buffer time in the journey, meaning that I’m now on my connection train which, though also late, will deliver me to my destination with just enough time left for me to pedal frantically to uni on my 80-year old (yes, really!) pushbike. Woot! Standing around in the freezing cold earlier, I have to say thoughts of “grrr… take the car again tomorrow” did flit through my mind. However, these have been banished on the grounds of wanting to protect the environment and not spend a whole wad of cash on my selfish indulgence every morning. Rest assured that I will take any (ANY) excuse to make exceptions to my self-inflicted rule, though… Tübingen, here I come! Chugga, chugga, chugga…

so put your hands in the air

2006-11-10T21:26:00.000+01:00

Soooo. It's Friday night and I'm wasted. No, not from substance abuse or anything - from a long weeks' studying. Yes, I know that's kind of boring. Yes, I know you're all thinking "what the heck is he doing blogging on a Friday night when everyone else is out partying?" (Okay, so maybe you weren't thinking that, but that would make me feel even worse about my situation, so I'm not going there right now) Well - A) C's out at an impossibly boring social that I simply could not bring myself to join her for. Suits and the German idea of small talk ("so! You are a student, ja? Why? Why not have a proper job? You are old enough, no?") are a combo that somehow lacked appeal, especially on a night like tonight when I'm feeling cranky and worn-out already. Plus, I don't drink beer, so would have stuck out like a saure bratwurst at a veggie party (eugh! That one was so half-hearted, even I didn't laugh). Okay and B) is that we're going out tomorrow night with friends and that'll be so much fun it'll make up for tonight, easy. Well, I certainly hope so at least...

(More juicy goodness from the forests of Ebersbach, y'all)

Isn't it funny how sometimes there's tons of stuff you've wanted to blog about all week, but when the time has come to do so, your motivation suddenly goes into freefall? I mean, I haven't even finished telling Parlancheq about Extreme Wheelbarrowing (it's like freestyle BMX riding, only with wheelbarrows. Quite boring unless you're a professional wheelbarrow pusher), let alone talked all about the glorious, hulking big, wheezing Hammond organ that now finally sits in my living room. And then there were some observations I wanted to share from my daily commute (undertaken as yet in the speed and luxury of our car) about cars, drivers, road behaviour, etc. Or I could tell you about the accident I witnessed yesterday and what I did to help. Finally, there have been a series of incidents that have caused me to think about globalisation and our reaction to it (including a post by Web Gamin that I found thought-inspiring if highly controversial). All this and more, and yet what am I doing? You guessed it - zip, nada, none of it. I'm sorry, people - I promise to try harder tomorrow or whenever I can muster the energy. Right now, here's signing off and wishing you all good weekends. Ta da!

saving it up for the weekend

2006-11-10T21:03:00.000+01:00

This one's for kneecaps; on the traffic news last night, there was warning of a "Nachtbaustelle" (nocturnal roadworks). Both C&I thought you might like the idea - we were thinking of your favourite German phrase, "Gute Nacht" and your translation of it... No, we didn't drive down and investigate. (BTW, your profile says you're still in KY) Cheers!

Come back, yes-ah, with me colour TV

2006-11-06T18:10:00.000+01:00

Blog, blog, blog! Finally I'm back after a somewhat turbulent weekend spent entertaining friends at our house while simultaneously fighting the system... okay, fighting to get my DSL connection back after it was cut off erroneously by some unthinking office jobsworth good-fer-nothing hack - alright, alright, I'm calming down already. Wow! You know you must be addicted to the internet when not being able to blog or download e-mail makes you develop several nervous tics and tourette syndrom-like verbal outbursts at even just the sight of a computer. Anyway, everything's back to normal, the marriage counsellor says we should be alright in the long run, the evil voices in my head have gone and here I am FINALLY blogging again. Ahhhhhhhhh...

(Finally, a picture of my own again - this taken while out walking in the woods above my house)

And it had all started off so well with a comment from the wonderful and seriously über-blog-tastic PARLANCHEQ that had me positively itching to respond. Oh flattery of flatteries, she had even read my profile! Or should that be taken as a sign of her concern, maybe even worry over the kind of people who'd been leaving comments on her blog recently? Whatever the case, I was (to use a Briticism) well chuffed and in a hurry to respond. See, the question was one that, I feared, might be speedily answered grace of the powers of Google if I were not quick enough. In my profile, I somewhat rashly mentioned the twin interests of Extreme Ironing and Extreme Wheelbarrowing, neither of which I currently practice. Okay, so for fairness sakes', I've also never speedluged unless you count trying to kill myself on my best friend's skateboard going flat-out down a steep hill on my back. However, I am addicted to speed and dangerous sporty stuff - you should have seen me breaking the guy on the motorscooter's nose when I hit him while trying to overtake the UPS van on my first day as a bike messenger. Okay, so anyway, what is extreme ironing, then?

(This one, clearly, courtesy of www.extremeironing.com)

Well, like many whacky and not-so-very-sane things I believe the sport was invented in Britain where a bunch of students (Tsk! Students...) came up with ways of making the chore of ironing clothes more exciting by spicing up locations and circumstances under which ironing might be performed. So, with battery-powered irons and boards in tow, they set out to steam-press shirts and the like on the top of tall buildings, in trees, underwater, etc. Obviously, proof of their achievements could only be obtained by having pictures taken while ironing. This in turn caught the attention of the media (at least in Britain and Oz) - a book was published highlighting some of the most outrageous ironing forfeits and sold mildly successfully about two years ago as a novelty coffee table item. From what I can tell, there have been no major changes in the sport since then, as the stagnation of the various "scene" websites would appear to confirm. A harmless, gimmicky sport that fits well with other Brit pastimes such as gurning, cheese-rolling or bog snorkelling, is probably adequate as a summary. As for personal involvement in the sport, I really wanted to take my ironing board with me on my first ever skydive, but my instructor wouldn't allow it. I do plan to iron while hanging off the side of our apartment at a 90° angle someday... Oh dear. This post alone has taken me almost two days (I don't have much time at the mo'), so I'll cut it short here and complete my answer to Parlancheq's question tomorrow (I hope). Meanwhile, cheerio!

All I wanna do, is have some fun

2006-11-01T13:42:00.000+01:00

Yagshemash! Wednesday lunchtime, the day after Helloween and I'm nursing only the slightest of hangovers. We had some very civilised visitors over last night, so were very sedate and merely indulged in a few glasses of Merlot, the remnants of which I am trying to swirl out of my blood system with copious amounts of vanilla nut-flavoured coffee. Today is dedicated to nothing more exciting than cramming Hebrew (it's a public holiday here, All Saints' Day), so I'm relishing this opportunity to flee into blogland. Anyway, what did I want to tell you about? First of all, Ricky Gervais, Steve Merchant and Karl Pilkington are running a series of three free podcasts between now (today, November 1st) and Christmas. Having been a big fan of the original (free) run of 12 casts and having refused to pay for their recent series of "pay-per-casts", I was, of course, curious and quick to subscribe. Overall, I must say I don't think I've missed out on much by not going for the pay-per-series - listening in now, it doesn't sound like anything's changed or the humour has evolved greatly. However, this is not a bad thing, so check it out by surfing to the Guardian's website and downloading/subscribing.

(this image unsurprisingly courtesy of www.timminchin.com)

Right, what else? Oh yeah, blogfather and overall wiseguy a.ndy once again pointed me in the direction of Something Very Good by telling me about Ozzie comedian/musician/rock'n'roll star Tim Minchin. Check out his website and get an earful of some of his stuff - I think he blends a very rare mix of fine, self-deprecating humour with sarcasm, irony and occasional twists of the profound to great effect. His "Peace Anthem for Palestine" has to rank among the funniest and best-executed pieces of musical comedy I have ever heard, bar nothing. I wish I had an audio feature on here so's you could just listen right in... Right. That'll have to be it for today. Sorry if I'm not managing much in the way of more profound or personal posts these days. I dunno, mebbe some day soon. Anyway, be safe and cheerio for now...

When the day is gaaawwn, hold ooonnnn

2006-10-24T17:29:00.000+02:00

How are you today? Everybody and their blogger seem to be moving to the new and improved Blogger, but (and I can't resist the terribly corny joke eminently for the picking here - sorry chumps) I do ask myself; is it really Beta? Okay, sorry. Bad humour aside, things are looking uppity here in Wild-boar-stream.

(this image courtesy of www.teichenberg.at)

Fended off my first door-to-door newspaper seller yesterday, which made me feel right at home (we used to have bajillions of them in Heidelberg on a daily basis). In fact, I almost felt sorry for the poor bloke for having heaved himself all the way up the seriously steep incline to our block of flats, just to be snubbed, I'm sure, by the entire inhabitancy of our house. I mean, hey, this is Swabia; we won't buy so much as a paperclip unless a) we're in dire, life-and-death sort of need of one and have already searched the entire house and harangued all our friends and family to no avail. And b) unless you can offer us certified, in-triplicate-writing lifetime-guaranteed proof that your offer is, in fact, THE bestestest available throughout the history of paperclip sales. Plus you've let us haggle the price down by 98 percent from your original quote. And are giving us a free thumb tack thrown into the deal as a sweetener. Then, and only then, we might just consider deigning your offer, provided we're in a good mood and believe a word of what you're saying. Which, given that 99 percent of German door-to-door salesforce are non-Swabians who've been imported specifically to do business from other parts on the Vaterland, is highly unlikely.

(this one's from www.frugalfun.com *shudder*)

So, my message to you today, sleazy and disreputable door-to-door sales people trying to flog Stuff The World Does Not Need in peace-loving Swabia is: Buzz off. Nah. Nuh-uhh. Fuh-geddaboudit. No blinking, tooting, rollerskating way whatso-nope-ever. There, that should do the trick. Happy to help, of course. Read and Learn.

(this one popped up at www.zen32721.co.uk)

Besides that, I don't really have much to show and tell today. University's going creamy oily smooth at the moment. Hmm - should I be worried? Admittedly, I haven't exactly set myself a gruelling schedule, but then that was the plan for this semester in first place. If there's one thing I don't ever want to repeat, it's the little breakdown I had earlier this year. No, thank you. Okay, have good remaining weeks, y'all! Cheerio!

Ooh la la, doowa diddy

2006-10-16T16:36:00.000+02:00

Hello y'alls. Just a quick thing to say "happy start of the semester" to all of you who, like me, have begun or returned to the daily grind of university life today. And to point you to WebGamin's blog and, more specifically, his series of "Sandstone County" police-related humour posts. Okay, that wasn't exactly an elegant description, but follow the link to see what I mean. I thought it was a witty idea overall. Okay, have good weeks y'all, talk to you soon...

Put your hands up in the air

2006-10-11T17:53:00.000+02:00

Hello. Feeling very... hard to say this evening. University is about to kick in again and I've been bustling around frantically (as always in such matters) to get my immat papers handed in. Tomorrow nite's the first official event I attend - yay! Itz about time to get into this whole caboodle again if I want to be making headway. Nagging self-doubt is, of course, my perpetual companion, as has been an old temptation of mine recently. Great! A friend of mine once said that, from a Christian perspective, if you're being challenged in what you're doing, then presumably that means the devil doesn't like your attitude and is trying to stop you. I'm trying to believe that right now, though it's taking some determination. Gnnn! (teeth gritted)

(this pic taken by the lovely folks at www.tuebingen-info.de, ja!)

What struck me dumb yesterday was the national headline story (here in Germany) about a fourteen-year-old boy having forced a younger girl into acts of child pornography, the evidence of which he then spread around among friends and classmates. Fortunately, somebody finally gave him away and the whole story became public. Dear God. I still don't know what to say. I have never felt such nausea at hearing of human behaviour. There seem so many questions, and yet fundamentally, how does anything really matter? I mean, yes of course, the kid's background needs exploring, potential trauma that could lead to such abusive behaviour must be uncovered, etc. But at the same time - who cares? I mean, just WHAT have we come to in this day and age? How on earth could something like that happen in the first place? There has to be an environment in which we, the public, might be inspired to commit such acts following other people's example. I don't believe the offending child (which, at fourteen, is all he is) was being original; I believe he was simply emulating what he had seen or heard of in other places. I mean, we signed up for membership at the local video store recently and, in the public access, no-age-restriction, non-adult section there was a DVD named "Snuff Attack" or similar, showing a naked woman tied and apparently in mid-being-abused on the cover. You don't even need to go to the "adults only" part, and yet we're surprised when kids, who will do whatever they're told not to just to rebel and create attention, come up with such horrific behaviour. What I don't understand is how anyone could be a humanist in fact of such behaviour. I know, I know - I've made this point before and, in fact, I would much appreciate discussing the point with anyone out there who's willing to make a stand for the fundamental goodness of mankind in face of such evidence. I'd be happy to be convinced, but at the moment, I simply can't see how one could not believe that we live in a fallen world and are fallen beings ourselves, in need of redemption if we're to produce good. Please don't hesitate to comment or e-mail me if you feel you disagree; I promise not to be a bolshy right-wing fanatic hell-bent on disproving your point. Honest. Bye for now.

Ha ha ha, hee hee hee, Eric the half-a-bee

2006-10-07T01:43:00.000+02:00

This one clearly not off of www.sinfest.net, unfortunately

Hi folks, short middle-of-the-night post on a fave website of mine that I think I've never mentioned before in the blog. I really like Tatsuya Ishida's online comic strip "Sinfest". I do realise that a lot of the humour, language, etc. isn't the type of "PC" that would go down well at, say, a Methodist Pastors' Convention. However, I love two things about it; a) the sense that the author himself appears to be dealing with the day-to-day questions and maybe the quest for spirituality/the meaning of life/whatever the question for 42 was in the first place from a sincere and open-minded while humorous perspective. And b), the profound beauty that radiates from a strip every odd time I go and click on the site. No time or energy to elaborate or quote right now - just go over there and browse through the backlog until you find what I mean (over-anxious brothers and sisters in Christ may want to do so through squinty eyes and with caution)... Yay for Tatsuya Ishida! And good night...

Cover Combo Caveats No. 2

2006-10-04T21:29:00.000+02:00

Ah. Oh. Sorry 'bout the triple post yesterday - sometimes Blogger gets a bit like dat scwewwy wabbit when it comes to uploading stuff. 'Pologies. Anway, itz time for Numpah Two in our merry little series of ramblings from the world of "Que Sera, Sera" and "Love Me, Tender". Here we go:

(this image courtesy of wallpaperbase.com)

Rule 2 "All-Singing-all-dancing" or "Talk Is Cheap": The only time it is permissible to speak to any given musician playing at your barmitzvahweddingahannukahdayfest is at the precise time when the musician in question is very obviously fully occupied playing music and couldn't possibly respond to your request/query/command. This is an old one, a fact I can remember noticing as a kid watching others play (long before I became a musician myself). No one seems to know why, but the only time someone will try to talk to you, the musician, will be at the exact time when you're, say, trying to improvise the perfect guitar solo over some tricky harmonies. Or, as happens invariably to myself, when I'm playing drums and singing lead vocal at the same time. Trust me, doing those two things alone is more than enough to have my mental capacities running on overboost (plus having all four extremities and my speech centre busy) and if there's one thing I could neither physically nor mentally perform, it would be listening to and answering whatever it is I'm just being told. The fun thing really is that without fail, people will access the one musician completely engrossed in what he/she's doing at any given time, not the guys sitting around them playing accompaniment/chilling out. I've seen it happen with saxophone players in mid-solo, bent double over their instrument with closed eyes and twitching arms. I've seen people approach beautiful female vocalists in long dresses precisely as they were launching into the high point of a ballad, head back, spotlight on, everyone's smitten except for the bride's mother, stage left in the wings with the question "will you be playing `The Days of Wine and Roses' later?" burning on her mind. The thing is, its so hard to know how to react. Ideas tested were:

(this image is from ninaspencer.com)

A) Ignoring the speaker; usually only leads to redoubled efforts and increased volume/facial redness/indignance, so that doesn't help.

(this one comes to you from cakeplow.com)

B) Trying to answer the question; impossible for the aforementioned reasons, even though some of the musicians I've worked with will try their very best, invariable delivering quite a performance in doing so. For example, have you ever seen a sax player try to speak out of the corner of his mouth while playing? It makes for some funny squeaks and squawks, I can assure you...

(this final one courtesy of cgi.ebay.com)

C) Doing a sort of Indian yes-no, "yeah but no but" motion with your head, then trying to deal with the problem/answering the questions after the song's over tends to be the only thing that works in my experience. Again, this may lead to hilarity among your band members as they laugh heartlessly at your plight and ungainly body motions, but hey, it definitely beats bringing the whole band to a grinding halt and facing the speaker directly. I remember doing that once in a band headed by one of Germany's best recorder players. He simply stopped us all in mid-tune and turned to the person with a suitably annoyed expression. You should have seen the crowd's reaction - I think I've never been so close to death by pitchfork stabbing or being throttled with bailer twine (it was a farmer's wife's birthday party, and her sister, the acting MC, was the questioner). So, don't go there would be my advice... We did manage to cheer things up again, though, with a selection of rousing tunes such as, well, "Those were the days", "I will survive" and, of course, "La Bamba". This brings me straight to another caveat, song choice and sequence, but that shall be saved for another post. Meanwhile, cheerio and keep rocking those wedding anniversaries, guys...

More of the same

2006-10-02T20:07:00.002+02:00

Before I forget, here's the link to all the pictures I took of the trip down to Woking/Cornwall. Enjoy!

Well, I've got a brand new combine harvester

2006-10-02T18:42:00.000+02:00

Hello! Achtung! Vorsprung durch Technik! All that. Sorry - been back to England/Cornwall for a bit. Always makes me fiercely patriotic and anglo-proud for a few days or so. And what a little visit it's been, too! Let's see... This is Fran the Van. He/she/it was my faithful steed for the journey to Blighty. My excuse for the road trip was helping Andy (pictured left) move most of his earthly belongings back to Woking in leafy Surrey whence he has returned after a six-year sojourn in the land of angst and schadenfreude. So, on Monday we set out to arrive here and unload stuff next morning. That done, we headed for Bristol (via Bath) and had lunch together with A's parents, after which I set off again down the M4 and A30 to Bodmin and the house of our wonderful friends Mary, Richard & Andrew. A lavish reception and a meal with friends Mark & Vicky thrown in as an additional bonus awaited. After which we got down to the more serious aspects of my visit; music! You see, there's a Hammond organ that has been waiting for me at Mary's house (where she also does B&B, by the way - check the link for more pictures) for quite some time now, and as I had an empty van and time to go, it would have seemed foolish not to use the opportunity. Of course, Richard, Andrew & I also got down to some playing together while we were at it. Keep those chicken eggs groovin smoovly, guys... Next morning was already time to wave a fond goodbye to the lake and, of course, to little Lilly, the adorable terrier puppy (seen here attacking a most vicious enemy, a shoe that had reportedly been sighted lurking suspiciously behind a sofa chair the night before, we're told). Unfortunately, this is also where my motivation to take pictures waned dramatically, so in summary, I bumbled my way back up the A303 (a frenzied shopping binge at Trago Mills notwithstanding), caught the redeye ferry back to Calais, slept for a few hours in a wind-swept seaside carpark, then headed home fuelled by croissants and weapons-grade French coffee. Brilliant! Okay, so there was some really nasty traffic shortly before home, but all in all, it was a most pleasant trip. Best of all, when I got home, t'internet was finally, finally working again! Oh, how I've missed my beloved broadband connection. So, now I not only am the proud owner of a cool and groovy Hammond, I'm also properly online again and can get stuck back into the business of blogging. Woo hoo! Well, I'll leave ye for now (without a riddle), cheerio and don't 'esitate to comment (unless you're some annoying bot from one of those 'orrible internet companies trying to flog Viagra, that is). Ta da!

Cover Combo Caveats No. 1

2006-08-24T10:18:00.000+02:00

Hi y'all. This may be my last post for a bit - I'm actually supposed to be packing stuff into boxes right now ready for our move, which starts tomorrow. So, apologies for any "outages" until we get moved in and I can get my DSL up-and-a-going. Meanwhile, I thought I'd go ahead and start the little series I promised on the joys of being a cover band, the kind of things that seem to happen to you constantly when you're on the road, warnings, advice, etc. Obviously, most of this will be strictly tongue-in-cheek, but I may end up throwing in the odd word of seriousness for good measure. So, here goes:

(This pic courtesy of hollywoodteenmovies.com)

Rule 1 "Request-a-mess": At every wedding, birthday, barmitzvah, wine fest or other event you play, there will be a minimum of one person who will come up and have a request for the band to play. This is particularly true of events where you, the band, have been given a set schedule of songs/styles/sheet music to play and are clearly in no position to take requests. The key thing about the request is; regardless of what you're playing (style, etc.), what time of the evening it is (dinner, late evening, after midnight, next morning over breakfast) or how talented/prepared/well-equipped in terms of sheet music you are, the request is GUARANTEED to be one that you could not, for the life of you, satisfy. Personal favourites of mine include the lady who came up to me on a night where I'd been booked to play the piano (the "real thing", a black grand, not a fancy bells-whistles-and-drum-machines synthesizer/MIDI monster, just to make myself clear. Oh, and for those of you who didn't know this, all you can reasonably achieve sonically with a piano is a sound that will be, well, piano-like in nature.) at a posh dinner event asking for "a big drum roll" to help her announce something. Others were the bunch of rowdy-looking, half-drunk rockers at a wedding who insisted we play "something by AC/DC, or at least Led Zeppelin". Our brief for the evening, given to us by the rockers' best buddy, the groom, was expressly to play "light jazz, nothing too exciting or loud". Oh yeah, and there wasn't a single guitar anywhere in sight in our piano/double bass/drums jazz trio, either... There's more to be told on the topic of requests; the manner in which requests are delivered, for instance, is crucial and never, ever varies. This, however, will have to wait until the next post. Meanwhile, I leave you with the immortal words well-beknown and feared by many a fine musician; "can you play 'Lady In Red', please?"

Never saw you looking so lovely as you did tonight

2006-08-20T18:39:00.000+02:00

...Mumble. Ooh ooh ow its Sunday evening and I am officially knackered beyond recognition. Somewhat surprisingly, this has triggered an idea for a (short) series of blog posts. Let me explain; yesterday evening I played another of the countless wedding/birthday/anniversary gigs that have formed the backbone of my musical activities for several years now (admittedly its a somewhat sleazy-looking, sheepishly mooching-in-corners in a black suit sort of backbone, but hey - at least it makes a living for itself). The funny thing about these gigs is that, while the music we play, the venues, audiences, etc. vary quite significantly, my fellow harlots, err, band members ("good evening ladies and gents, we're all just Slaves To The Rythm here, so go ahead, relax and enjoy the show...") and I believe we have noted and observed a series of occurances that seem to repeat themselves at almost every single gig we play. Feel free to make clever-clogs observations at this point about what you think might be the cause for such phenomena. On afterthoughts, please don't. Unless your observations are witty and flattering, in which case please don't hesitate to post them as comments... Where was I?

(Not me, but check out my flickr account by clikking the picc for pixx of mii)

Oh yes, based on the aforementioned insights gathered, I will try to put out a series of Cover Gig Essentials (or some similarly glib title, if I can think of one) wherein I will state one or several of the things that "always happen". Obviously, Que Sera, Sera and I may not manage more than a few posts but Perhaps, Perhaps... Sorry, got carried away. Should you wish to add any points, correct or modify statements I make, please do not hesitate to write a comment. It's Not Unusual, after all (darn! There goes another one). Okay, enjoy. P.S.: Sorry no pictures of the new pad so far - at the minute, I simply can't be bothered to hook my cell phone up to the compewter. D'aargh.

Isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful

2006-08-15T22:49:00.000+02:00

Hi-dey-ho y'all! Good news time in the hood. Two announcements for y'alls. Firstly, friend and fellow blog contributor Kneecaps is very proud to announce the birth of his second child, the beautiful, bouncy Erin Eileen. Yay! We're happy to report that all is well with mother and child and both have returned home from hospital already. Point Two on the agenda is to tell y'alls that C and I have finally, finally found a new flat and will sign the contract for it tomorrow. As aforementioned (I believe - in earlier posts, that would be), we're moving to Ebersbach an der Fils, located in Southern Germany about 20 minutes' drive from Stuttgart. Shoot me an e-mail if you want address details and weren't on the "press release" e-mail list. Pictures of the place as soon as I have some (watch this blogspace).

There's something wrong with the world today...

2006-08-10T15:21:00.000+02:00

...and I do know what it is. I think. Or not. Anyway, new shtuff to tell you about.

(courtesy of hollandsentinel.com)

A) I have become a member of OpenBC, a business contacts network site. A friend invited me and I couldn't think of any sensible reasons why not to join. Turns out there's quite a few people I know already "there", which is nice. Weird is being checked out by people from former customer companies. It gives me the creeps somehow - I dunno, maybe part of being a trainer is to develop a mild form of personal-information-related paranoia. For the life of me, I couldn't think what there might be that someone checking the website could learn about me that I would not want them to know. I have no closet skeletons I'm aware of, and even if I did they wouldn't be online, that's for sure! Why is it then that I almost retired my entry from the website after finding several former customers had checked out my file (within a very short time after going online)? I don't know, but watching my own reactions to this will be reason enough to keep the entry up for a bit. Did that make sense? Not sure...

(courtesy of indiewire.com)

B)I just finished reading Cosmopolis by Don Delillo. I tend to struggle with heavy, "involved" sort of literature, so tried this fairly short volume by the bestselling author of Underworld with some trepidation, mainly because it came recommended by Harald Schmidt, Germany's version of David Letterman, whom I admire rather more than I care to admit. Anyway, in an amateur attempt to describe what I read, the style seems very stream-of-consciousness to me, rich with descriptions of sensory experience and word-by-word transcriptions of thought. For me, this gives a very realistic insight into a character's world view and perception as imagined by the author. As a technique, I really like the approach and admire the author's ability to make me feel involved, close to the action and able to relate to the character. Several times, I came across descriptions of thought processes, reactions to input, etc. that surprised me by being similar to my own reactions or behaviour, though I might have been previously unaware of such behaviour in a situation. Touching on nerves of common, yet mostly subliminal or "instinctive" behaviour that may be surprising to the reader is one of the things I always felt the late Douglas Adams was incredibly good at, so its another "like" for me. Plus, the text is rich with metaphor and symbolism, something I enjoy when it is not overdone. Dislikes would be the graphic descriptions of acts of sexuality, though I accept that, from the author's point of view this might simply be a necessary means of advancing the plot and completing the holistic view of a character's experience. Anyway, if you're looking for a rich, complex and, to some degree, thrilling tale of power, wealth, urban madness and the intricacies of the human condition, here's my thumbs up for Don Delillo's Cosmopolis.

(courtesy of amazon.com)

Just made myself a nice, steaming hot cup of tea. Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh! I may only be half a Brit, but hunkered over a cozy mug of splosh on a rainy afternoon, I couldn't imagine wanting to be anything other than British. Speaking of my mother country, though - what shocking news about those threats to US flights out of London. I really don't know what to make of the world we live in sometimes and would struggle to judge who's right and who isn't in many of the questions people are fighting over these days, especially regarding the influence Europe and the US have exerted over large parts of the planet and the people living there. However, I refuse to believe that terrorism and violence are the only means available to individuals or groups seeking to change their environment. Therefore, these people's behaviour (and the behaviour of those who incite and back them in planning such deeds) is wrong and morally reprehensible in my book. I was tempted to write something vaguely pathetic about hoping the people involved might come to a realisation of the wrongness of their deeds, but will refrain. Instead, this may sound even cheesier, but let's all work toward a more peaceful world by fighting injustice in our immediate, day-to-day environments. Sorry if this does sound like Hollywood drivel, but for all its schmaltz, I'm a firm believer in thinking global and acting local. Okay, I'll get down off the soap box now so you can have a good laugh at my naivete... Cheerio!

something beautiful will come your way

2006-08-08T14:57:00.000+02:00

Hey y’all. I’m sitting in a park writing this while I wait to play a gig in two hours’ time. I’m here with Beatbetrieb who have invited me along for a show, maybe more if things go well. Which is great as far as I’m concerned. Right now, I’m sat between a couple of fountains, the sound of running water mixing happily with a few early grasshopper chirrups and the conversations of people passing by. Its nice to be at ease every once in a while.

Anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is two things; first, that I have found the best gadget ever online – a robot lawnmower that will sit in a docking station while it waits for a programmed cue. Once this is given, it departs from the dock, goes around your house mowing the lawn (apparently, it can tell the difference between patches of grass, rocks, trees, pet animals and assorted garden paraphernalia) and, upon completion, trundles itself back to home base to recharge its batteries. Now, I realise that liking lawnmowers sounds maybe a little middle-aged and pipe-and-slippers. Still, I’m totally thrilled by the idea of having one of those running around my house one day, scaring the living daylights out of stray cats, the postman and unsuspecting trespassers. Find it here to learn more.

Also, just to make sure I’m not accused of stealing other people’s posts, this is where I found the link originally. Silicon Glen is a really fun techy blog (I know, I know – it really is fun, and no, I’m nobody’s nerd by any definition) with lots of bright ideas and a spark-off website for inventions. So, checkk it outtt! Right, signing off for now, cheerio!

Doo wah diddy diddy

2006-08-01T13:44:00.000+02:00

E's back! I've been realising just how misleading or rather, unrepresentative the scribblings on the blog have become recently. See, my last major foray told you about being down at Lake Constance whereas, today, I was going to write about the last week, which I spent on holiday in Alsace. Which must lead you, the reader, into believing mine is a life of luxury and constant respite. How I wish that was correct! Well, anyway... Things have happened and decisions been made while I've been offline for a bit. We finally know where we're going to be living (and working) for the next couple of years. The place is called Ebersbach, and its a small town somewhere near Stuttgart (between Esslingen and Göppingen, for those of you in the know). Its 30-odd miles from Tübingen, where I shall be continuing my studies, meaning I will commute there. Of course we'd really hoped we might end up closer to Tübingen, but hey, at least we finally know where we're going, ending the weeks of nail-biting anxiety that went before. So, Ebersbach it is. Let's see, here's the official town link (nothing much there) and that's it, really. Hicktown! Yay. So here's where I was - or at least, the Etang de Stock in Lorraine was one the places I visited. There's a ton more stuff I'd like to tell you about, but the phone's been ringing incessantly today and is doing so as I write. Gah! The thing is, our landlady is still advertising our flat (although she's hired a realtor) in the local paper and giving people who ring her our telephone number. No, she didn't even ask whether we minded. We, therefore, have resorted to letting the phone ring, with the answer phone telling them to either call the realtor or leave a message. This in turn seems to have infuriated some of the persons interested in the flat to the extent that they've been ringing in 3 minute intervals. Which isn't fun when you haven't worked out how to set the phone to silent mode. Ah well, at least we'll be out of here soon...

Hey, how're you doing? Sorry you can't get through

2006-07-11T16:08:00.000+02:00

...just a qwik note to all you friends, family and other fone callers out there; should you be planning to ring our home phone sometime soon, please DO leave an answer phone message. Due to the number of people calling about our flat recently, we've gone for a policy of no longer answering the phone until we hear who's calling. So, if we're in we promise to pick it up once we hear it's you. Sorry for the inconvenience and please feel free to direct hatemail - no, sorry, to direct prayers of goodwill towards our landlady who's to blame for the whole argy-bargy...

Do you wanna see me do the shimmy again?

2006-07-11T15:09:00.000+02:00

Ello blogging world. Its been a while, I know. I know, I know, I know... Sorry! Been busy. Spent some time trying to take a holiday. Failed. Well, not entirely, but it didn't work out the way I'd meant it to. So what? So I'm back in work mode and trying not-very-valiantly to get stuff done. Good grief, it's hot out, BTW - thought I was going to get fried running errands earlier...

(I'd love to claim this was my picture, but alas no, it comes courtesy of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Bodensee_Sonnenuntergang.jpg)

This is where I spent my attempt at holiday-making. Lake Constance, or to be precise, the Bregenz (i.e. Austrian) end of it. Nice place - you even get a view that's remotely sea-like in that you can't see the shore on the other side for some parts. That's where I'd really liked to have gone, of course - the ocean. This was good, too, in its own right. Just not long enough...

(This one courtesy of www.erlebnis-segeln.de)

Came back from that to a busy week (last week) doing, well, not much in terms of achievements. Just small stuff like tidying and cleaning up the house, getting bills out, cashing cheques, doing laundry, arguing with my landlady, etc. Chores that had not been done for a bit. Oh, and on Thursday I gave my first ever lecture at Heidelberg University. (Yes, please feel free to "ooh" and "aah" and send me fanmail.) I was invited as a guest speaker to a lecture on management skills for pastors/ministers. Now, to those of you not accustomed to the German way of running churches, our "Landeskirche" (main Protestant denomination) hires pastors for their theological qualification, full stop. You don't necessarily need to know anything about people management, business, administration, etc. All you need is a degree in (theoretical) theology, which means that anything church life throws your way in terms of admin, management challenges, etc. will be stuff you learn how to do on the job. The good thing is that people (including, fortunately, some of the pastors in question) have begun to realise that, hey, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if those leader guys actually knew what they were doing. To this end, there's been a lot of discussion (which really helps, of course) and sage nodding of heads, but not much else in terms of curriculum changes for theology students or so. Which, as you can tell, is something that annoys me as someone who hopes to be one of those pastors some day and who happens to have a background in management training. So, when I was invited to speak at this (admittedly small) lecture on the topic of communications management for pastors, I jumped at the chance. So, how did it go? Well, not that bad, I guess. It was hard for me to identify particular areas of people management skills that we could have worked on within the limited time of just one lecture, so I plumped for the basics and drilled them on giving good feedback (and receiving it, of course). Not rocket science, but I did feel it was worthwhile doing, especially judging from the feedback I got from participants at the end.

(Image courtesy of www.sequencelearning.com and no, I'm not on the pic)

What else? Well, the weekend was nice & peaceful except for the fact that we got showered with phone calls from people wanting to rent our flat and wanting us to show it to them. We handed in our notice a while ago, and it turns out our landlady had been advertising the flat (without telling us) since the beginning of last week. Not only that, but she (who lives in Bavaria) was giving out our home number and my cell phone number to all and sundry, telling them to call us and arrange to see the flat. She didn't think fit to even let us know people were going to call! Obviously, our feathers were ruffled and I did my very best to let her know so (which I'm hopeless at - my inbred "well now, you can't just be rude to people just because they annoy you" always comes out in force in these situations where I should really be sounding stern and business-like. Makes me feel so terribly Fawlty-esque sometimes...) over the phone. We haven't heard the end of it yet, though - people are still calling despite my request for her to change her plans. Ah well - I guess I needed to learn to be coarse and aggressive at some point in my life, so why not now. Grrrrr! (Yes, I know that sounded lame and pet-like - I'm trying!!!)

(This one courtesy, once again, of the Beeb http://www.bbcprograms.com/pbs/catalog/fawltytowers/images/0102fawl.jpg)

Could you believe...

2006-06-27T02:18:00.000+02:00

... in a dream, if I tell you that it's true?" as Al Jarreau so beautifully asked long ago. Hi y'all - the weekend's over and my, it's been a biggie. Lots of fun, quite exhausting, and one of the upshoots is I'm on my own for the week. No, C didn't leave after a fight - she left to go to Oxford with one of her classes from school. Lucky C will get to hang out with friends of ours in the evenings while hopefully having a great time with her pupils in the daytime. So, what have I been doing? Well, Saturday saw us (Billy, Hannah and me) play a trio gig as "Lawrence Goodman Scheck" at the Deutsche Missions Gesellschaft in Sinsheim. It was a lot of fun and I came away feeling blessed and privileged to get to play with such a cool bunch of musicians. Got home late, went to bed for a few a hours before it was time to send C off on her school trip. Prepared some stuff, wrote some e-mails, went back to bed. Up again at nine, led worship at church, then straight back to the car and headed out to Stuttgart where I had a two o' clock appointment to do sound here. Worked for nine hours flat, my first live sound job using a 01V96 digital mixing desk. Fun stuff, especially watching the motor faders jumping positions as you flipped your way through aux channels... Anyway, got through all of that, said goodbye, hopped back in the car (fortunately, I had good friend Becky along to keep me awake), came home, crashed (into bed). Okay, here's some exciting news; I finally got the first two copies of the brand new "Beatbetrieb" CD on which I played percussion today. And guess what; I think it sounds fabulous!(audio snippets are available on the band's site, www.beatbetrieb.de" We had a great time recording, and you can really hear that on the CD (it was a live recording). So, everybody, go out and and get the hottest new release of the summer, available, I trust, here and probably here, too. Buy, buy, buy!

When you get caught between the moon and New York City

2006-06-19T16:03:00.000+02:00

Hey world *wave*. Its Monday again and things are looking up-ish here in Eppeltown. I spent the majority of last week doing not much, which has been very therapeutic. So, I feel kind of ready to jump on the bandwagon again - of course I'm reluctant to actually DO things again after several days of relaxing apathy, but then who wouldn't be?

(Image courtesy of www.laptop-laptop.de)

Cooked lunch for a small team of Texan missionaries on a short-term missions trip to Germany this morning. We served up "Maultaschen", something the Americans had never seen or eaten before (despite two of them having lived here for quite some time). It was fun - the picture above gives an idea of what Maultaschen are, while this link gives you a more detailed description and recipes how to make 'em. Ours, BTW, came out of a packet (courtesy of living in Southern Germany, where they mass-produce the things) and were not lovingly hand-crafted as the website suggests. It was fun to meet and talk to the team (they're with a program called "Let's Start Talking"), especially as one of the two couples are true globetrotters who have spent significant portions of their lives living and working outside of their home country. The following perception is definitely not limited to inhabitants of the US of A; I tend to find that whatever the nationality, people who've spent more than just their holidays living "away from home" tend to have a much broader horizon as well as a tendency to be less fanatical and one-sided about matters. Which, in my book, is a good thing. So, despite a mild aversion to use American -isms too much on this blog, we really did have a great time together. And that will have to be all for today. Cheerio!

You nasty boy

2006-06-13T23:06:00.000+02:00

Hello everyone! For all you sad Monty Python fans out there, here's a link to a fair collection of MP3s and WAV files featuring several venerable film tunes, quotes, etc. Enjoy!

(Picture courtesy of sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2005/03/)

What else can I tell you? Had my first proper mini-breakdown (sort of) last week and am still recovering from it. Weird. A learning experience, I guess. No, I'm not going to harp on about it here - just to say I'm taking a bit of a break at the minute, so in case I've failed to answer the odd e-mail or respond to a message left, I apologise. And yes, things are looking up again, so there's nothing to worry about. Besides the World Cup, obviously...

(Image courtesy of the Beeb bbc.co.uk and yes, it is an old pic)

This whole patriotism/national pride thing may have been predictable, but the fun bit is how much satisfaction everyone I meet seems to be getting from the fact that Germany is a sea of flags for the first time since, well, over fifty years ago. It tickles all kinds of people pink, and not just the kind who, like myself, have been bleating about our lack of national pride for ages. Several friends and acquaintances have remarked on the topic recently, and every single comment was positive. So, there! Interesting Times indeed

I Was Lost in France

2006-06-06T18:15:00.000+02:00

Tuesday, and here's a fun little link, posted mainly for the benefit of my (former) colleagues at Culture Click. This is the video I mentioned in my e-mail. It's about 4 megs big, in case you wanted to download it. For the unnamed millions reading this blog who don't work for CCC, just check this out anyway and feel free to let me know whether or not you found it funny - I'm really curious to hear what you thought! So, without further ado, here is... "Do You Speak English?" Watch Video Well?

Leave this long-haired country boy alone

2006-06-01T21:07:00.000+02:00

Ahhh. Day's over and I'm sitting here as my wife indulges in a bout of ironing. She would hate if she knew that I'm writing about it, tee hee. Anyway, not much to say, except that there's a CD I wanted to pimp despite the fact that its lyrics have got to range among the dodgiest I have had the privilege of coming across in a lifetime's musicianship. Okay, they're not as bad as those written by a Romanian(I think) producer I once did some work for. Then again, this particular guy literally spoke no English (part of the reason he hired me). That didn't stop him writing songs, though - oh no; his "lyrricks" were cobbled together by the simple expedient of lining up random words and phrases he a) assumed were English and b) had picked up off other people's songs/newspaper clippings/"Denglish" advertising garble. Oh, how I wish I had kept some of his oeuvre for posterity now - alas, I was young and foolish and didn't recognise the kind of greatness which I now so treasure...

(all images courtesy of www.kashew.com)

Anyway. The CD whose virtues I wish to praise today was recorded by my good friend and fellow drummer Markus Kern a.k.a. KaShew. Please don't ask me what the spelling's all about or what the name means (else I might ruin the pimping bit by spouting a load of derisive tripe about well-meaning Denglishers) - what it is is a German country CD featuring the incredible PatMcGrath and a few other Nashville,TN, studio stalwarts. In fact, Nashville is where part of the CD was recorded, and the influence is clearly audible. So, what does good ol' boy charm and slide guitar playing do for German music? Quite a lot, in fact. Markus, who has spent most of his previous musical career playing with metal/hard rock bands ("teenagers banging bits of garden furniture together," as the wonderful Jeremy Clarkson put it), seems to have had a bit of a change of heart and has ventured out from behind the drum kit to record his first solo album with the help of a bunch of German and American buddies. And I must say, at least in this jaded lil' know-it-all's ears, the results sound really rather tasty. The singing has shades of Cash or Daniels in there somewhere, while the playing is fun in a distinctly two-step-ish, howdy-yeaawwl, sort of way. I like it! And so, I think, will you. So - go chekk it out! I'll say it again (a first, I think) - www.kashew.com has the country-flavoured, mellow-hued-if-a-little-odd-shaped bomb. Yeehaw!

Happy happy joy joy

2006-05-31T23:12:00.000+02:00

It's groan o' clock PM and I'm hunched over my increasingly worn-out laptop pretending to be hard at work while whittling away at this here message to you, the waiting world. Apparently. I mean, apparently you're out there and you actually read what I splurge. Says my wonderful friend a.ndy, whose encouragement and general niceness not only pushed me into this whole blogging kerbungle in the first place. No, besides that he said some VERY nice things to me this afternoon (nothing regarding my looks, appearance or the like, I hasten to add) when MSNing, which is why I'm going to continue blogging despite all the doubts I've been harbouring recently. Fawn, fawn, preen. It IS nice having your back rubbed from time to time! Ahhhh.... So here, suckers - read this! Hah!

(yes, that's me there on the right, making people do what I tell'em - I mean, getting my stage ready for the Himmelfahrtsfestival. Pic courtesy of http://www.teifel.net)

Wichita Lineman

2006-05-29T19:35:00.001+02:00

Bleargh! It's that time of the week again - Monday, I mean. Last week was great, if wearying. Thursday saw the Himmelfahrtsfestival - awesome, awesome, awesome! Had a ball chasing my crew around main stage, hobnobbing with friends and fellow musicians, etc. One band I was very impressed with were the lovely Verra Cruz. Just three guys, drums, bass and guitar/lap steel, no loops or fancy trickery, and yet they rocked the house like I haven't seen in a long time. Way to go, guys! Plus, they're a nice bunch of people, which isn't a given. Whatelse? Still killing myself trying to get ancient Hebrew into my ignorant brain. I wish it wasn't the painful, challenging stuff that builds character and helps us improve. Besides Hebrew, everything is good, fun, etc. at the moment. And yes, I am VERY aware of what a lucky sod I am if my greatest worry is whether or not I'll be able to cram enough gutturals by the end of the semester. I guess it also goes to prove my pet theory that it's not the issues you're dealing with that make you a happy or an unhappy person, it's the way you deal with them, regardless of what they are, that defines your state of mind and happiness.

Exterminate! Exterminate!

2006-05-18T12:24:00.000+02:00

I want a remote-controlled Dalek, BTW. Somebody buy me one, quick! C can pick it up for me while she's over in Blighty (next week)... Pretty please? With sugar, bows and ribbons on top?

Always beware the Hun in the sun

2006-05-18T12:14:00.000+02:00

World Cup fever is spreading; much to C's and my own surprise, we bought a hulking big German flag yesterday while out shopping for other things. Yes, it was dirt cheap, but it still felt a strange thing to do. Cultural conundrum, I s'pose; Germans in general aren't usually seen waving our flag around, not even on bank holidays or anything like it. Slap a bumper sticker with the black, red and gold stripes on the back of your car and you'd be singled out as a Nazi instantly. I kid you not - that's how paranoid "we" are about any national symbols. So, in a sense, it feels good to now have a big German flag residing next to my (even bigger) Union Jack in the flag cupboard. Not sure what C thought about it - it was her suggestion to buy the thing! Who knows, maybe this world cup thing can help Germany recover from at least a part of its national identity crisis? Now, wouldn't that be interesting? This here (courtesy of boystoys.co.uk) probably won't help us overcome our paranoia, though I do find it very amusing. I wonder what the world would say if us Germans started producing that kind of "propaganda materials" with other people's flags on? Culture, eh?

Ha, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive

2006-05-15T19:29:00.000+02:00

Okelly dokelly - hi again, bloggin wurld. Let's see - what did I want to tell y'allses about? Oh yes, last week's seminar took place here (nice hotel - large rooms, fine food, staff a bit too brusque for my liking). It was another "The Apprentice"-based US culture one, and a lot of fun to teach at that. After that, I packed up all my gear on Saturday afternoon and headed to this hotel(haven't stayed there, but the food and the service are in a class of their own) for a five-piece-band wedding gig featuring a couple of guys I hadn't played with before. Most notable was guitarist Martin Wüstner, both for his indomitable good spirits and his delectable, groov-a-licious playing. I hope we'll get more chances to play together - it really was that good! I was dead on my feet by the end of it, though - I always struggle to get more than a couple of hours' sleep per night in on seminar days, and playing a gig with new musicians doesn't usually help, either. So anyway, I retired to my parents' house for some crash-out, sleep-'til-you-can-no-more respite. Spent what was left of Sunday at a photo shoot with C (she was taking pics for her sister's wedding). Got to see her granddad, which was nice. Then got back home and flopped into bed, only to awake a couple of hours later worn-out yet unable to sleep (see my last post). Insomnia didn't let up until early this morning, so I skipped Hebrew (again) and caught more of that much-needed shuteye. Zzzzzzz... What else? Oh, I rediscovered a great way of reminding myself of my own significance and importance on this little blue planet. Simply taking a leisurely (bleary-eyed, stumbling) walk through one of the springtime forests of my childhood was an incredible leveller - seeing nature going all-out on its way to springtime glory, hearing the sounds of a million insects and the song of countless birds, feeling and hearing a gentle breeze sway the endless vivid green of a glade of pine trees really helped put things into perspective. I don't know whether you believe in the existence of a Creator or not. Whatever you believe, seeing and witnessing the activity of countless little lives being led all around me within just a fraction of the world we call our own, really helped this musician/trainer remember that, try as I may, I will never be more (or less) than just one small part of a gigantic, complex, beautiful system - life. I have to say I find that thought very encouraging, if somewhat deflating of personal pride. What do you think?

It ain't over 'til it's over

2006-05-15T01:28:00.000+02:00

Pheeeewww! Mega exhalations - got through last week's marathon of Hebrew, seminar and gig alright if rather worse for wear. Everything came good on the night, the only ill effects being a temporary bout of insomnia that is fading right now, thank God. More soon, just wanted to check in and let y'alls know I'm still alive. Nighty night!

Good things may come to those who wait

2006-05-08T14:39:00.000+02:00

Mayhem. Chaos. Blind, reeling panic. Egad! Whattaway to start the week. This week I have so much stuff to do that sitting down to blog is as crazy a thing to do as listening to the meaningless Michael Jackson song Pandora has decided to churn out at me. "You gotta put your heart on the liiine..." Yeah, er, COMPLETELY whatever. So, what's all the fuss, I hear you ask? Well, mostly, its about cramming Hebrew into my addled grey blobby stuff. That is supposed to be priority numero uno at the moment, and would be, too, if I hadn't foolishly let my kind-of-sort-of-former boss talk me into teaching this three-day seminar from Thursday to Saturday. D'ouch! Plus, I lined up a gig Saturday night, which should finish me off nicely. I got so stressed about it all yesterday night in bed that I couldn't sleep a wink. Which makes for a great Monday morning, of course. In fact, survival instinct kicked in big time about half an hour before the alarm clock - I went and got myself a paracetamol and earplugs, and decided to skip Hebrew this morning. Which has helped, actually. I just wish these primeval urges might fire up a wee bit earlier sometimes. Maybe I would have made it to bed before about 3AM on Sunday morning, then, instead of staying up to listen to C's mum's woes... Then again, if I had nothing left to learn in life, how bored would I be? Okay, gotta go, gotta go, Hebrew is calling... Seeeeeyah!

Nice work if you can get it

2006-04-30T17:23:00.000+02:00

Hey! In a dramatic break from tradition, here's a Sunday post. It comes to you courtesy of the fact that C is spending the afternoon revising for her final (final final - the ultimate, the proverbial "it", as Max Quordlepleen would have said) exams and has left me to my own devices for a while. Suits me fine - there's two things I've learnt today which I would like to share. First is: somebody actually reads my blog! I have already received responses to yesterday's blog puzzle (see the post before this one for details - the competition is still open as of today, so get your response in now!). A.ndy, a mystery prize will be winging its way to your doorstep tomorrow! No, "Edmund Turnley" isn't really a studio, but you're so much closer than anyone else so far that I have decided magnanimously to award you a prize anyway. So there! Point Two is something I just picked up from the stuff C is revising for her exams. Apparently, there is something called the "Pygmalion Effect", which I intend to blog about at length here. In a nutshell, the theory behind it is that if a teacher/trainer/coach can envision their pupils/trainees/students as the fully-trained, perfect masters of whatever skill it is these people are being taught, this will have great effect on the successful outcome of the class/training/course. Given the teacher's ongoing vision and commitment, the pupils will, so the theory, eventually become the living image of their trainer's vision. Now, I realise this isn't rocket science, but it still appeals to me greatly. Anyway, that was what I learnt today, and that will be all for now. Have great Sunday evenings, y'all, and I'll talk to you later!

Jeanie's got a gun...

2006-04-29T20:48:00.000+02:00

...Wait. Let me re-phrase that. Wifey (the lovely C) took delivery of her brand, spanking new digital SLR yesterday! Itz a Canon 20D - supposedly a "semi-professional" model and definitely a huge step in the right direction for my ambitious photographer partner-in-crime. Yay! Reminded me to post this not-quite-so-recent pic of C in the foyer of a Nashville studio building (C featured holding an older model camera, obviously). I took the pic because the sign next to her features lots of studio names I thought were funny at the time. So, here's a competition; can you tell me at least one of the studio names on the picture? Responses (via e-mail or the comment function) will receive some sort of small prize, I promise! Okay, gottagonow, byeeee... P.S.: Advice for those fiendishly devoted to winning a prize - click on the pic to see a higher-resolution versh over at flickr.com...

A rollerskating jam named Saturday

2006-04-29T20:24:00.000+02:00

Hey y'all. Not much to say today, but I'm determined to use what chances I get to actually keep blogging. Blog, blog, blog! I was thinking earlier about a seminar where I've been asked to guest-teach a session on communications management for pastors. Should be fun - I fear that a significant part of my audience may be the type of shepherd who still harbours a secret belief that e-mail is the devil's work and USB the abbreviation of a little-known Bible translation. Therefore, I plan to really push the use of electronic communication within the realm of my other, more general recommendations for improving intra-ecclesial communication (yes, I AM proud of that term, though I fear I probably just invented it...). And, among other things, I intend to recommend the use of a blog, be it as a channel for communicating ideas and making oneself "personable" to a congregation, or simply as an anonymous forum wherein a pastor might vent his or her frustrations and share ideas with a waiting world (or secluded circles of users, if access were to be limited). I truly believe this might be a good way of harnessing the Net's virtues for what is, in my eyes, a worthy cause - the running and managing of a church fellowship. Anyway, what I was trying to say originally was that if I'm going to recommend such things, then I as the speaker should be putting money where my mouth is. And to be able to point my audience to my blog without risking dire embarassment, I will need to keep it updated, won't I? "Cogito ergo sum", as dear old David Brent might have misguidedly quipped at this point. So, here we go. BTW, have a great weekend, y'all, and talk to you soon. Cheerio!

Up jumped spring

2006-04-28T12:38:00.000+02:00

Oooooh yace! Spring's here, people! At least it is in Heidelberg and I tell you, it's magical! Down here in the delta, everything's blossoming while the light green of new leaves rushes up the steep hillsides of the previously stark Odenwald. The people are feeling spring's arrival, too, though - there's all kinds of hormones flying around dazzling and confusing everyone, forcing smiles even on the faces of people who thought they had forgotten all about happiness. It's so much fun to watch how people suddenly start wearing colours again, start looking around to see if they're being noticed, how walks become more upright and outward appearance becomes a matter of choice and style, no longer just the fulfillment of necessities. Yes, I am a whole-hearted warm weather afficionado whose dream life involves lots of time spent drinking coffee on busy plazas watching people go by, just spectating. There are many ways in which I would never make a credible Greek/Italian lifer, but like so many Brits and other cold-weather people, its definitely a closet fantasy I harbour. Funny that - that one should be so attracted to an alien lifestyle. Yes, I know that dozens of much better writers than myself have mused the issue before me (I particularly enjoyed Richard Porter's perspective, aired in his evo column of yore). It just still makes me laugh to imagine the stereotypical Armani-turtleneck-and-designer-stubbled Italian nursing a late-evening espresso outside his favourite harbourside bar with starlit skies, laughter and music for a backdrop, musing on how nice it would be to be called Hugh, James or Sheldon and to live in a Georgian terraced house where you would make yourself cups of tea every morning as you looked out at your Rover 216 parked in the morning drizzle. "Ah, to be an insurance rep in Swindon!" is, I'm pretty sure, not something the Giorgios and Stefanes of Brit fantasyland have ever uttered, any more than imagining the thrills of going for a few pints at the Nag's Head on a Saturday. What alien lifestyles, I wonder, do the Italians and other Mediterranean peoples aspire to? "Oh, to be a Massai warrior?" "Oh, the joys of being an Inuit?" Ciao ragazzi for now...

Time keeps on ticking...

2006-04-27T17:27:00.000+02:00

...into the future. Can't believe how quickly the last couple of days/weeks have flown by. My prediction about not blogging regularly was spot-on, I'm afraid. Sorry about that. I don't know yet when I'll get back to my regular form, sad to say. At the moment, I'm trying to work Biblical Hebrew (the language, not the band) into my little noggin. Somewhat staggeringly, I'm finding myself actually enjoying it. Weird, that, but true. What it is, though, is four days a week of hassle - courses in the morning, then homework and cramming for the next day (oh, and a couple of other lectures, of course). I'm going to need the remaining days of the week to revise and review stuff - every week starts with a mock exam. Eye-watering stuff but, like I said, at the moment I'm still enjoying the challenge, so that bodes well, I guess... What else is new? Well, exciting news is that I'm going to be the single, official main stage manager for this year's Himmelfahrtsfestival, coming up May 25th. Ticket sales are booming, apparently,which is good. I also talked to my all-time favourite sound guy, Jochen, on the phone earlier today and he has confirmed he'll be my monitor guy, which is awesome. This cat (whose CV includes work done for Phil Collins, Jimmy Cliff and Miriam Makeba) is just unbelievable - I used to think I had pretty good hearing, but this dude is in a whole different world when it comes to frequencies and phonograms. Mind-blowing! Another cool thing is that, as a trio with Hannah and Billy, I've been booked for the Christmas Colours Festival which, as the name intimates, will happen in late December. So, the rock'n roll quota for my year is looking better by the minute. Now add a couple of days' early spring sunshine, a successful attempt at dieting (another eddyquette first) and you have the perfect recipe for one happy bunny! Yes, folks, I'm doing just grrreat at the minute, glad to say. Knowing me, I may be bombed-out and moaning again by next week, but right now, things are great. Which gives me cause to praise the god I believe in. So, praise God! Okay, on the downside, I've caught myself fighting my old temptation again a lot, what with all the nice weather and the preety girls out in droves. God is good, though, and is allowing me to be strong as well as giving me the knowledge that he will never turn me away if or when I fall. Now, that's hope for you - or at least, that's what I believe and what keeps me going. Seeeyah!!!

2006-04-19T10:54:00.000+02:00

So - Easter's over, bunnies. Did you have a good one? Aidid. Spent it "back home" with various relatives&family. Booked a gig, signed up for a festival, called off another gig. Played one with good friends Tina & Rebecca. Nice. Very chilled-out right now and off to the park in just few minutes, so catch u l8r!

Joe's party (with video, I hope)

2006-04-11T14:32:00.000+02:00

Well now. This is going to be interesting. I don't even know if blogger supports YouTube video, but here's my first attempt at showing you a random clip from the much-mentioned birthday bash I attended some weeks ago. Hmm! Looks like it's working. Coo'! I'll try to put better stuff in ASAP. For now, this was simply the first file I could find. Sorry about the bad singing, etc. I thought the band sounded pretty good, though...

Here's some pics from the party, too...

People really went to town on costumes.

Okay, enough for now, more soon. Cheerio!

It's been a while

2006-04-11T13:05:00.000+02:00

Hi blogosphere. I'm sorry for all the weeks of silence with no prior warning. Blooper. It wasn't intentional, b'lieve me. So what have I been doing? Well, two weeks ago, I was on the road with Beatbetrieb. Which was one of the funnest things I've ever done in my life. On a par with my first skydive. No, really. The pics in this post are from the gig (some taken with my cheapo camera, some courtesy of the Beatbetrieb website. Suffice to say I had a huge blast and can't wait to do it again some day. Rock on!

(Me enjoying a moment's sheer unbridled elation as I try to finetune my setup)

What was cool about the whole thing (besides getting to hang out with hypercool cat Dee, the band and the one and only Florence Joy) was that my ego got through the whole process without most of the rollercoaster action I used to endure in days gone by. No more over-the-moon one minute, down in the dumps the next insecurity and emotional instability - flying high after the gig, fishing for compliments and admiration, then waking up with depression the next morning. It's amazing what faith can do for you. I've taken a long time to learn my lesson, and of course I'm still learning now, but knowing that there's a God who created me, loved me first and wanted me the way I am has definitely become a stable foundation for my fragile little self-esteem. So, yay for my God! Oh, he loves you just as much, by the way, in case you didn't know... Enough of that. Here's an announcement which doesn't come easy to me; I don't think I will be able to maintain my previous form of roughly one post per weekday. There simply isn't time - I don't usually have lunch in front of the laptop these days, and am finding that my desire to get going on the meat of my studies and to be a good husband tend to overpower my exhibitionist blogging desires. I'm going to miss writing, but I honestly feel I need to focus on other stuff at the moment. D'ouch! I will put pictures and hopefully some video up from Joe's party a while ago. Yes, I finally got 'em... Okay, be blessed everyone, talk to ya sooooon!

Friday night and the weekend's here

2006-03-24T07:50:00.000+01:00

So much for random song lyrics as post headers. It is, in fact, insanely early on Friday morning. However, C had to get up really early and I decided to be nice (for a change) and get up, too. My general rule, of course, is make sure "she's impressed with my least achievements"(Calvin)... (picture posting's working again, yay!) Anyway. Two things I wanted to share with you. The first one comes courtesy of fellow blogstronaut kneecaps and is a screamer of a little thing. You may have heard news about cows being abducted (particularly the California contingent of our huge readership) from dairy farms. Well, here, finally is a website devoted specifically to the topic, including helpful advice on countering the phenomenon and ways of getting involved. Clikkit! You know you want to... Numpa Two was brought to me by a friend who's in marketing. It features my personal dream boy band "performing" their first smash hit (in German, BTW, though I think the old "music transcends language barriers" adage rings true here). Now, please don't pass judgement on my marketing buddy prematurely, by the way - a), I knew the guy before he got this job, and b)not all marketeers are what they're cracked up to be. This one's a top bloke. Oh! Speaking of which, here's a fun little thing on marketing lingo; a cat (or maybe more of a lupine) who's got his Steven Covey-approved, proactive spiel together.

Webcamel

2006-03-22T21:10:00.000+01:00

Yippy yi yo, everyone. Just back from doing some work (for a change). Had a session over at another of the area's larger companies (this one in the financial sector). Really excited about kneecapses post there - cool stuff. So, what else? Worked out how to use my webcam this morning. "Well, duh", I hear you saying. But wait! It ain't just any old webcam. In fact, it's my very own cheapo digital camera (as blogged about yonks ago, see pic) which is not just a cut-price photo box, oh no! It will also store and play MP3s, apparently - not that I would ever use that - whaddaya mean, headphones coming out your camera? And on top of all that, it will double up as a webcam, which is nice for penny-pinching, depraved students like myself. So yay for webcams! Speaking of pictures, though, blogger is being a real pain when I'm trying to upload pictures at the moment. It takes about five attempts until I finally get the "Done" message - all the other times, it'll just stall after the "wait- you photo is being uploaded" phase. Hnnngh! I give up. Sorry, no photos - mebbe tomorrow, then...

It's a Girl!

2006-03-21T17:54:00.000+01:00

Found out yesterday that the little baby growing inside of MK is a girl! Needless to say we are very excited. Except James. He has no idea what is coming! We're going to name her Erin Eileen. I'll plan on scanning in the ultrasound pics and posting them here soon.

Giggetty gig

2006-03-21T10:53:00.000+01:00

Toosday. Trying very hard to finish this paper I'm working on right now. Slave, slave, slave... Just received sheets and stuff for the gig I mentioned recently. Okay, so here's what it is; I've been booked to do two evenings of live recording with Stuttgart-based Beatbetrieb. Exciting stuff, especially 'cos I'm booked to play percussion, which doesn't happen too often. Plus, I get to play with my buddy Dee off of AdK, whom I've wanted to jam with for quite a while now. Yay!

(Image off of Beatbetrieb.de, obviously)

Fahrn, fahrn, fahrn auf der Autobahn

2006-03-18T13:17:00.000+01:00

Hello people, Two new things I wanted to tell y'all about. One, blogging hero and general good person a.ndy just had the kindness to share with me this link to a website. Oh, the sheer, unadulterated beauty of amateur translation! I'm so glad I don't know who did this one. For all my non-German readers (both of you), this is an example of something we call "Denglish" - the unfortunate bastardisation of two separate languages with little in common. Let me explain at least one thing - the first word at the top of the page. "Actual" is a word Germans use when trying to describe "Current events" and the like. There's a German word, "aktuell", which means "of the time, up-to-date, current". Its one of the differences I've spent countless hours hammering into the heads of my unfortunate clients - to whom the transmogrifier of this page (translator seems too nice a word) clearly did not belong. Anything you find incomprehensible on the site is the result of the aforementioned clash of cultures - don't worry about it though, as the original German text probably wouldn't have made sense to many people in the first place. I love it! Just like the "we don't change" sign featured below (not for the first time), or this deplorable Berlitz ad that everyone seems to be spamming each other with these days, it's one of the things that keep the grin on my face in this troubled day and age. The other thing was something I believe fellow blogger kneecaps was meaning to share with you. Mmmh. On afterthoughts, I'll give him another couple of days to maybe get something up there, though we'll need to be quick before everyone knows about... So, talk to y'alls soon, have exciting weekends, cheerio!

On the road again

2006-03-16T08:57:00.000+01:00

Hey! I just came across something fun - a podcasting truck driver! Trucker Tom, as he's known to friends and highwaymen, is actually doing something I haved dreamed of on several occasions. Those of you who know me well will be aware of my trucking aspirations, or rather, this vague dream of mine about rolling an eighteen-wheeler across the surface of our little blue planet for a living. The one thing that accompanies my pipe dream is the vision of a laptop and headset firmly installed in the cab next to me, enabling me to communicate with the world as I travel its highways. And up to today, I'd always assumed that was an impossible dream. Turns out I was wrong! Now, I don't necessarily subscribe to or endorse Tom's views, but I have to say his casts have an edge to them - he's very clear on what he believes, which makes him credible in my opinion. So, as of today, props to Tom the podcasting trucker, to be added to the links list ASAP. Keep on trucking! Yeehaw...

Stormy Monday

2006-03-14T11:05:00.000+01:00

I don't seem to be good at posting Mondays. Don't know why, it just doesn't seem to happen much. So, here I am again the day after, soaking up the glorious sunshine outside even though its still freeezing cold. But yay for sunshine! Cloudy skies and rain always put a damper on my spirits, if you'll pardon the long-dead horse of a pun. Plus, I'm listening to "Amor" by Los Amigos Invisibles, which always makes me feel better. Funny how pseudo-1970s disco does that for me - I won't go into the persykological implications for you, no way... Gottalotta stuff to do today. We're having the first of our new-and-improved-for March 2006 house group meetings round at our house today. The inaugural one, if you so like, and guess who light-heartedly volunteered to lead. Augh! Should be fun, though, with one small proviso; it sounds like one of our new participants could be a former client of mine. Now, that could be decidedly awkward. We already had that situation once before where a patient whose psychotherapeutic treatment I had fortunately not been all too involved in myself, but still someone I had met professionally, showed up at a bible study group we were attending at the time. I felt decidedly uncomfortable. This person I would have worked with as a trainer, not a therapist, which makes things only slightly better. Ah well, we'll see. Whatelse? Got booked for a pretty big gig at the end of this month. I don't really want to tell you what it is at this point, but I promise you'll hear about it as time goes by. Other than that, I shall be sending off a total of 580,394 carrier pigeons to my slovenly friend Joachim as of today, reminding him to finally, finally get me some of those party pics! Presumably, his little office will be so crammed with bewinged, cooing archangels and carneaus that, at some point, he will give in to the pressure and send one back to me with an SD card attached to its little leg. Tally hoo!

Saturday morning cartoons & kung fu

2006-03-11T10:29:00.000+01:00

Hiya, Saturday morning it sure is and I'm right here parked in front of my laptop, waiting at the breakfast table for our guests to rise and shine. Nice - haven't done that in a long time. C's out scrapbooking all day today, leaving me to a)my own devices and b)the entertainment of some good friends of ours who're staying the weekend. I like having guests who are happy to have a lie-in at your house - to me, that kind of says they're comfortable hanging at your pad and comfortable with you as hosts. So anyway, coffee's ready, table's laid and I've just spent about an hour checking out Rosenstolz, or rather, their newest release (an audio CD with the thoughtful addition of a video DVD). I'm not usually a big fan of German music, and didn't think much of this particular band's previous efforts. This one, though, "Rosenstolz+Das Grosse Leben", I'm rather more impressed with than I actually care to admit. Is it embarrassing if you can pinpoint precisely what it is that attracts you to other people's music? Obviously not if you're asking the Music Genome Project, who run the fabulous Pandora thingy. Let me recommend this to you again, especially if you're at a loss about finding new music you like. Having a flat-rate is a bit of a prerequisite (which is why I'm in denial at the moment - not for much longer, though) to make serious use of it, but even for occasional listening/music finding pleasure, its a neat device. Okay, brekkie time (friends have awoken) - seeeya!

Write here, write now

2006-03-10T08:43:00.001+01:00

Sorry for the lack of postage hiers - had a lot of other stuff to do, including a post for the worship leaders blog (in Tschörmenn). But hey! Back agin today. So, wot's new? Well, first of all, still no pics from the party last weekend, which sucks totally. I may have to start spam-blasting my buddy or something... take his bass guitar hostage and threaten to break a string or two if he ain't forthcoming. Ah, well - mebbe not. Er, what else? Oh yes, I wanted to hype a website by Corporate Watch, an organisation monitoring what all those multinational global-playing industry giants are up to. The site's pretty neat if maybe a teeny bit "angry young man" for my own liking. Facts seem impeccable, though, as is the mission (in my humble opinion). Having led the leech-like existence of an external trainer/consultant to some of these big organisations (hope no-one from my job is reading this), I can see the angle they're shooting at, and support the thinking wholeheartedly. Nobody really is keeping an eye on what mega-corporations are doing these days, both in terms of their effects on society and economy (the long-term view) and, of course, concerning the violence inflicted upon our unsuspecting little planet. No, I'm not normally a raving leftie, but this is, I think, a worthy cause, so go check it out, everybody! Corporate Watch - cuz you know it makes sense, baby... Oh, here's a fact I found fascinating (courtesy, as ever, of the faithful Beeb feed, my main source of factoids and trivia these days); Forbes say there are more billionaires than ever, running up a total of 793 such persons worldwide if I'm correct. Now, I realise that simply turning around and saying well, how come our economy is bleeding workers all the time then - why are people being made redundant if, as the article states, the global economy has never seen such levels of growth since WWII, is selling the point short, not reading the figures in detail, etc. But, or "maismaismais", as Ed La Poignee would say in a Joe Bar Team comic, isn't there at least some degree of relevance to the question? Is this what globalisation means today - that everyone's making money by the bucketload, but us simple people obviously don't get anything out of that, besides maybe an offer to follow our jobs out to Novo Sibirsk or Hyderabad? Yes, I admit I was probably being a bit "angry young man" myself there... Rant over. Final point, and this one really is silly: a woman in Bath has gotten an ASBO (Anti-Social Behaviour Order) for repeatedly listening to "Show Me The Way to Amarillo" at ear-splitting volume. Apparently, her behaviour was both so obnoxious and of such persistence that she successfully drove at least one set of neighbours into selling up and leaving! Wow! Plus, funniest of all, she's now had her stereo confiscated... That is so un-German. Here, we would have had a public inquiry after the first time it happened (probably), followed by a court order to either insulate the relevant walls or keep noise levels down, else the coppers show up and cart you away, pronto! Ach, mein Vaterland of efficient punishment, or whatever...

Write here, write now

2006-03-10T08:43:00.000+01:00

Wifey succeedeth

2006-03-08T18:24:00.000+01:00

Finally, after two most depressing results from her final exams, C has come forth victorious from the third. She got a 1.5, something slightly below A for all you non-Germans, and is chuffed to bits with it! Rightly so - it seems she was treated rather unfairly both times before this one. So, yay! Good news. Still no pics from the party (duh!), sorry, so this'll have to do for now(the country band from Nashville). Joe, the guy behind the event, is still rolling on a high of dude-man-that-was-awesome-letz-do-it-agin-tomorrow even though he must have comprehensively busted the bank with this one. He thinks the two of us should host exclusive, VIP-only parties in a city near where he lives. Well, you wouldn't hear me turning that one down, as long as I don't have to take financial responsibility... No, seriously, though, we had so much fun and I can't wait to have those pics (nudge nudge say no more)!!! More soon, gotta go celebrate with C...

Tuesday's child

2006-03-07T10:55:00.000+01:00

Hello everybody! Still a bit bleary from the weekend, spent in the kind of weather you can see on the pic below - awful shot, I know, but I did have very little time and only 30 Euros worth of cheapo camera at my disposal. Anyway, I was invited to this massive party Saturday night. C and I should have both gone, but she became sort-of-ill just Friday night and decided to stay home. More on the party itself as soon as I have some pics available - for now, suffice to say that I got about two hours of sleep and had more fun than I've had on stage for a loooong time... Oh, and the party location was at the absolute back of beyond - literally down the end of a steep and snowy ravine, in an old converted mill of such spooky, ages-old charm that I wouldn't have batted an eyelash if the furniture had come alive or one of the boars heads on the wall had started talking at some point. What a place for a shindig! Awesome. It was rise and shine early next morning in order to be with good friend and universal good guy Joe for lunch. His whole family was there, too, which made me feel a bit embarrassed but kind of privileged at the same time. I'm still beating myself up now for not having taken pictures both of the drive to his house and of the view from their balcony, which has to be on a par with vistas in places like St. Moritz or the Lake District. There was over four foot of snow in some of the places my drive took me through - entirely surreal for an area that hasn't seen much snow in recent years at all (though they used to have it all the time decades ago). Not to mention awe-strikingly, drivel-inducingly beautiful, of course... Had to head home pretty soon after lunch - yet another epic drive through sugar-coated Disney movie backdrops. As for this week, I'm going to be working away happily at my paper, with another bumper weekend coming up Friday (as most weekends tend to do - start on a Friday, I mean). Seeya!

Use the Force, Anjakin

2006-03-06T19:43:00.000+01:00

Our good friend Anja is going to hospital for a final operation on her accident-injured back. All the best and please, everyone, pray for her. Thanks!

Well now, well now...

2006-03-02T13:16:00.000+01:00

...young man. Working on a paper for university at the moment, which is keeping me out of trouble (read: making my life boring and devoid of fun). Well, no actually, had fun yesterday; I went bass amp shopping at at a local music store. Would have bought this, but they didn't have one in stock (not for myself, alas).

(picture courtesy of citizenjazz.com)

Anyway, what I've been wanting to talk about since yesterday or longer is this whole Securitas mega heist 50 squillion quid robbery business over in Blighty. Obviously, I don't know anything except what the media tell us about the whole affair. What surprised me initially, though, is my feelings about the matter. Because, essentially, I find myself hoping all the time that maybe those robbers will miraculously get away with their dirty deed and all the loot. Now, isn't that weird? I've noticed myself feeling pangs of disappointment with every newscast about new people being arrested, vehicles found and the like. Why is that so, I wonder? Is it a) because I'm a raving maniac with vast forces of criminal energy slumbering undiscovered beneath a paper-thin facade of bourgeois contentment, or b) might I not be the only one who feels a kind of pride in the achievement made by what must presumably be "people like you and me", i.e. the underdogs of an increasingly oligarchic society? In fact, might I be right in assuming there is something of a groundswell of unspoken support for this bunch of people who had the audacity to commit a crime of such epic proportions? After all, there appears to be something decidedly Robin Hood-esque in attacking those with money so blatantly and with such devastating results. I may be well off the mark here, but doesn't it appear almost like an act of terrorism, a counter-strike of guerilla venom against the ever-increasing dominance and sheer boundless power of those who have systematically ripped apart state institutions and systems that provided more equal opportunities to those with lesser income? Call me a madman, sue me, block my bloggings off Google (like in China) or whatever, but I have to say I'd love to see www.supportourrobbers.co.uk out there somewhere, if only for the fun of irking the powers-to-be with its existence.

(this pic courtesy of www.hindu.com)

I think I might have gotten a bit foamy around the mouth here, but this just needed to be said. Okay, okay, I'll come down off my soapbox now. Yes, I'll take my medication and have a lie-down, nurse, no problem...

Hello World

2006-03-02T01:51:00.000+01:00

.... Historic occasion for me. My first blog post! Thanks to Eddyquette for allowing me the privelage to write on his blog. I've been looking forward to this for some time! Anyhow, this post will be short and sweet. Just an quick update on my job search. I was in Chicago last week and I had 8 interviews with companies located throughout the U.S. After interviewing, only three made my short list. And fortunately for me, all three liked me! I'm praying that something will come our way soon. I'll keep you posted. MK and James are doing well. And #2 is growing fast. MK is in her 16th week. We should find out if the baby is a boy or girl in a month or so. Thanks again Eddyquette!

Desperately late...

2006-02-28T13:16:00.000+01:00

...with this week's blogging - sorry, folks! Had another luvverly weekend back in the sticks with C's parents. Went to the theatre all posh and dressed up Saturday night. Wasn't bad at all, some sort of musical done by the local troupe of actors with help from a light sprinkling of pro musical people. You could really tell the difference, though I have to say the regular actors have my respect for taking on an all-singing, all-dancing role whilst accustomed to speaking roles only. What was the piece's name? Well, it was "Triumph der Liebe" in German, which would be "Triumph of Love", a Birkenhead/Stock adaption of a play written by Pierre Carlet de Chamblain de Marivaux. Or 'Pete Mouthful', as he was affectionately known to friends and family...

(image courtesy of Minh's Notes mxn.f2o.org/.../03/16/pierrot_nemo_suit.html)

Anyway, I came across this question this morning while completing my return journey from the bank (where employees were wearing fancy dress costumes while retaining their eternally grim and world-weary demeanour when serving you - oh, the wonders of German carnival). Why is it that people in small cars seem to have the biggest problems positioning them properly, e.g. when attempting to park them in a normal-sized parking bay? This has occurred to me on several occasions. I used to notice it most back in the days when my company vehicle was a white van (or more precisely, an 18 foot Mercedes Sprinter with the raised roofline - yes, I am showing off) which needed accurate navigation to fit into almost any parking slot. For those Americans among you who've never been to Europe; you have no idea. I've been to your country and your parking spaces are HUGE - and I don't just mean parking areas, I mean the individual partitions. By comparison, you could park a European semi truck (without the trailer) on an American slot, whereas something like a Dually would never fit a typical German/English/French parking bay. So, anyway... I was watching this not entirely unattractive lady attempting to reverse her new model Mini Cooper(not the one pictured - that is courtesy of www.carl.wellington.name/interests/mini/) into a parking space that would have fitted something over a foot wider and several foot longer. I would have helped, but she wasn't having any of it, sawing away at the wheel and generally getting herself nowhere except into a huff. (BTW, check here to see how that is done properly) No, I'm not laughing at this lady's plight as an individual, I'm just pondering the fact that the owners of smaller vehicles seem to have a harder time achieving things that other drivers rarely even think about. Another example; I know somebody who considers themselves incapable of parking their own car (note how I'm carefully avoiding gender denotation). Therefore, this person resorts to accosting a stranger every morning - no, I'm not making this up - and has them park their car. The vehicle in question? A compact hatchback - again, for you Americans, this is a category of car almost unbeknown to the Land of the Free. Think "smallest rental car category ever" - something like a Geo Metro.

(image courtesy of www.utexas.edu/learn/graphics/imgtag.html)

So, anyone have any ideas? Is it just because in order to survive everyday traffic in a big car, you have to learn the skills? Or could there be some underlying correlation between size of chosen vehicular mode of transportation and, I don't know, anxiety, claustrophobic tendencies, or issues of similar ilk? Your comments, thoughts and inspiration are welcome as always...

I really don't have...

2006-02-23T14:13:00.000+01:00

...time for this right now - I'm supposed to be frantically applying for a grant (and have been doing so all morning), but having just briefly nosed by rickygervais.com compels me to write this brief note of ire. As announced in Episode 12 of the really-rather-fun-but-went-downhill-towards-the-end podcast, Ricky, Steven and Karl are going ahead with a pay-per-listen version of the Ricky Gervais show, to be found here at audible.com. Now, I have no issue with them making money for what they do (as an artist, far be that from me). What irks me is that, like other money-grabbing comedians before them, they're now misusing what is supposed to be a free-for-all, true spirit of the internet vehicle, i.e. podcasts. That, to me, is simply missing the point. I doubt the original podcast would have registered even a flicker on the blogosphere radar if it hadn't been for free. And also, sorry folks, but you're not really THAT funny. If Karl is really real, and if he does need a job, then for goodness sake send him out to get one. That in itself is absolutely no excuse for diluting greatness. If you're sick of doing stuff for free (again, something I can relate to), then just pack it in and go back to what you were doing before that, thereby retaining the iconic status of the original 12 'casts. To me, the message now is one of pure, commercialist sell-out and greed. And yes, as I hope has become clear, I am truly pissed off by that. So there!

I don't want...

2006-02-21T13:56:00.000+01:00

... to write today. I'm feeling horrible - caught myself some kind of Delhi Belly yesterday and it was so bad I'm tempted to write all the gory details. Let's just go with "I threw up" for now. As of today, I've managed to drink about a gallon of herb tea which hasn't come back. However, the lunch I had seems to be resting uneasily, which is a horrid feeling. Okay, that's enough yuckiness. Sorry. Oh, did I ever mention that Tony Pierce is a contributor to thoughtmechanics.com?

Hmm...

2006-02-20T15:15:00.000+01:00

... this is a neat one; American troops operating in Iraq are now being taught folk gestures and body language of the people they're working with, i.e. the Iraqi population. As a trainer for intercultural communications, this finds my approval, of course. Few people outside the little "ICC scene" might be aware of how important something as small as a thumbs-up or the rubbing of thumb and index/middle finger can be. Or rather, how diverse the meanings of such small things can be. You may have heard stories of US President Clinton allegedly embarrassing himself royally when he gave a crowd of Massai warriors a double thumbs-up. (Here's an alternative version suggesting Greece as the offended nation). Whether or not these stories hold true as incidents, there's definitely loads of differences in the way we use gestures. Now, if I could find some other way of getting breaks in my text besides jamming jpegs in between the lines, I'd put up a little gestures quiz for your amusement. Anybody wanna drop me a hint? The old html "span" thing doesn't seem to work - or rather, it works for my drafts and the preview option, but the blog itself won't do it. Okay, so here's the deal; if anyone can tell me an effective way of getting line breaks visible on the blog, I'll share some of my accumulated catalogue of folk gestures with you. In fact, what we'll do is, we'll have a competition; I will give away a grand prize(tba) to whoever gets the most meanings of folk gestures right. All contingent, of course, on SOMEBODY showing or telling me 'ow to get stupid line breaks. Arrgghh!

2006-02-18T13:27:00.000+01:00

Just stumbled across this video clip of Ricky Gervais, Stephen Merchant and the incongruous Karl Pilkington. Now, I believe most of us downloading the podcast will have wondered at some point whether Karl is, in fact, a real person, or simply an actor with a cleverly written script. Based on the strength of the video material shown here, I have to say the balance of my judgement has taken something of a tilt towards believing that Karl is, unfortunately, very real. In fact, from the footage, Karl would appear to be (and I hope I may be forgiven for speaking so harshly of someone I've never met) every bit as dull and ignorant as Ricky and Karl make him appear in the podcasts. Which leaves me feeling decidedly uncomfortable about the whole matter. For some reason, I feel that a podcast making fun of someone apparently incapable of even understanding what is happening to him just isn't right. I don't subscribe to cruelty to animals for fun in Spanish arenas any more than I would watch dwarf throwing on TV or otherwise. Could subscribing to a podcast (the world's most popular podcast, let's not forget) end up being a question of ethics? Mebbe I've just been conned successfully into believing what Mr Gervais wants me to, but what if not? Dude - are you really real?

Country roads...

2006-02-18T11:40:00.000+01:00

...took me home yesterday for a couple of appointments, all of which turned out really rather well. First up was a visit with my, dunno, church superintendent or whatever you call the head pastor of a group of churches. Top bloke anyway - I'd asked for a 30 minute slot 'cos I know how busy he is and all I really needed from him was fairly trivial formal stuff. We ended up chatting for over 2 hours which he just blocked off for me as if it were nothing. Incwedible! People can be so nice sometimes... Anyway, I came away with his blessing and a bunch of books for me to read. Yeeha! The next bit was even nicer, though - I had lunch with my Dad at a quiet little restaurant. We were almost the only people there and got to talk a lot; meaningful stuff, too, not just banter. My Dad and I have come a long way, I guess, and it really showed yesterday. I had no hard feelings, we weren't awkward, and I think both of us were able to show the other how much we love him, which is more than could be said for the last twenty-odd years of our life before that. Yes, more than one tear was brushed manfully from sight - it was heartwarmingly, life-affirmingly good. Sorry if all this kitsch is making you sick - I'm just doing what the whole blogsphere is on about all the time and being honest. So, from there I took a series of increasingly smaller and more winding roads across country to see this guy whose big event we'll be playing at in June. Cool - the place is an old chateau situated in the middle of a golf course out in the sticks. Secluded, but neat. How on earth 500 people are supposed to find it is beyond me, but apparently that's how many show up every year. Sorry' bout the goofy grin, BTW...

Somebody gonna get-a hurt...

2006-02-15T14:46:00.000+01:00

... real bad! Yes, I've been watching Russell Peters just like everybody else. Why? Cuz he's hilarious, ear-bleedingly foul language aside. For those who don't know, here's a link to his most renowned (and most quoted) skit, involving the famous line about getting hurt. Which also tells you exactly what it is I'm wasting so much of my time on these days - d'oh! Otherwise, weather's rotten outside, which isn't nice. On a different note, there's a few decisions I need to make today. One concerns a request made by a friend of C's who works for her. Its her birthday party on Saturday. We're invited and she apparently dropped a casual question about whether I would bring my keys and play a little at the party. Which puts me in a bit of a dilemma; yes, I have played at people's parties before, and I've also done so for free occasionally. However, these were typically either fellow musicians like Ralf or Jochen, people I love and who would do (or have done) the same thing for me. Or, its been friends whom I was happy to do a favour 'cos I knew it would be appreciated, people I go back some time with, that kind of thing. It's not about needing to get paid (I'm not Ray Charles), it's just about respect for what I do. Few things make me feel more humiliated than playing a couple of hours for a party of people, then just packing up quietly and moseying off like it wasn't a big thing, or like it was something I just did to please myself. I don't. I wouldn't. We've have a ton of great parties here at our house with people who appreciate jamming, making music together or kicking back and listening for a bit. I have two great bands and a worship team where I get all the musical highs I could ever ask for. That's where I get my kicks, or "where my heart is", to put it in Christianese. Ach, I don't know...

Feelings are a strange...

2006-02-13T21:02:00.000+01:00

...kettle of fish sometimes. I'm sitting just a couple of yards across the room from C, who's busily typing away at her preparations for tomorrow's teaching exam (Number Two out of a gruelling series of four). I've been in this self-same room with her almost the entire day, chatting back and forth occasionally, helping her out a bit, getting stuff done. And yet, here I am, doing one of the things I enjoy most at the mo' (picking my nose while eating a mars bar - no, blogging, of course!) and suddenly I feel a real pang of missing her. Like, all I need to do is just get up, reach over and touch her. And still, here's this wave of sudden loneliness sweeping over me. Call it children's instinct, soppy foolishness, neurosis, or whatever - I'm off to get a hug, pronto...

(This, obviously, is another Nashville souvenir - no, not the girl, the pic)

Spent the whole day sitting...

2006-02-13T20:30:00.000+01:00

...at the computer or running mini-errands around the house. Weekend was REAL good - had a fair bit of fun and a great Sunday at church. Itz weird how people will just love you for no apparent reason - at least, its weird to me. I mean, yeah, brothers and sisters and all that, and its what you're supposed to do as a Christian - love others, etc. The funny thing is, when that love is real and genuine and it touches you, it still makes me blush and stutter. Kind of. Anyway... Something I wanted to share with y'allsoutthere was PANDORA.com, which has become a permanent fixture when I'm surfing the net here. The original tip-off came, as always, from the one and only a.ndy, who somehow just knows about these things when they matter. And this does matter: pandora is essentially the kind of radio station I never knew existed this side of my dreams. You tell them/it/the bunch of music nurds hunched over the screen/the waiting rows of servile computer bankage/whoever it is a couple of bands or song titles you like, then they turn that into a "radio station", trying to find more music that will suit your taste. When a new song comes up, you can rate it, which influences the next suggestions. Essentially, you go through a fine-tuning, customisation progress, the results of which I have to say I'm well chuffed with. Apparently, you can e-mail your stations to people and all that - thassall a bit much for this Luddite as of now. However, and this is probably the main reason I'm pimping them so hard, I got an e-mail from them the other day giving me some advice on how to use the service. The funny thing is, the e-mail was signed by Tim Westergren, the man behind the whole idea, not one of his minions. That struck me as unusual, and since I do really dig what they're doing, I went and answered the e-mail just right there (there wasn't the usual "this is a computer-generated, worthless piece of PR drivel, so don't even bother to react at all" blurb at the bottom, either). And then, and then - Tim wrote me back! I was stunned - what a top bloke. I mean, where do you ever actually get that - the dude in command isn't to haughty-taughty to reply to a thankyou mail by one of us! I am now officially in love (in a veryhairy-chested, male, football-and-beer-loving "I love V8 engines" sort of way) with the service and would highly recommend you go check it out. It might just be the future, as long as they can manage to keep it free of charge somehow. Good on you, lads!

Friday frippery

2006-02-10T15:59:00.000+01:00

Hello world, how are you? Time for Friday's creative output - or maybe just another blog entry. Let's see; spent half the day negotiating a gig for Hannah, Billy and myself. Should be major-ish, about 500 people there, pay sounds okay. Agonized for a while over some of the minor details, then rang Billy and got his opinion. Dude, there ain't nothing like the wisdom that comes with age and experience! It was sooo good talking to him and hearing his side - he's just like, "keep it simple, don't fuss with people and things, go with what you know". Sounds basic, but isn't sometimes. So, no huge PA stacks, twelve-piece band bells-and whistles - we'll just swing it as a trio. Sorted! And with that, I'll have to skedaddle - got friends coming round for dinner. Tortillaaaaz! Thanks, Bri and MK, for an excellent addition to our cuisine.

Movie reviews aren't...

2006-02-09T08:12:00.000+01:00

...necessarily my cup of tea. C and I typically don't make it to a cinema more than once a year (yes, really), so I'm nobody's expert on the topic. However, I have checked the odd movie website before (Hitchhiker's Guide, Ray, etc.) and I tend to be quite interested in what's new. Just came across advertising for "Elementarteilchen", a new German movie. So, I thought I'd surf to the website and mosey around. Yikes! Talk about doing dirt cheap. There. Is. Nothing. On. The. Site. Just a really dull animation and utter nothingness to do, look at, click on, or whatever. No bios, no storyline, not even a stupid flash game or win-a-t-shirt contest. The single thing you can actually DO there is watch the trailer. So I'm like great, let's watch the trailer. Click on it, extra window pops up, asks you what size trailer you wanna see. Unthinkingly, I go for "medium", which usually suits my DSL connection best. And then - you get a player with a screen about the size of a postage stamp! Couldn't believe it - just how cash-starved (or insanely mean and penny-pinching) must the German movie industry be! The mind boggles...

Doggie woggie

2006-02-08T12:51:00.000+01:00

Well, ain't that sweet? I'm not that big a CuteOverload fan in general, but I do like this! Rock 'n' roll, doggo!

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways

2006-02-07T07:36:00.000+01:00

Just a brief little post before I head out; been thinking recently (for no apparent reason) about what it is exactly that I love so much about my wife. And juno what I found out? One of the things I adore most about C is the tip of her nose. No, I can't explain it (wonder what my shrink would say about that one), but I am in fact magically attracted. I love it! Of course, I love all of her, and not just her body, either. So there. Have a nice one, folks

Mohammed caricatures

2006-02-03T11:06:00.000+01:00

Hello everybody, How'r y'alls? Itz another Friday and I've just had a brief visit from a good friend (who happens to be my insurance broker). What's been on my mind mostly, though, is this case of a Danish newspaper having printed caricatures of the prophet Mohammed. Now, I have no desire whatsoever to get involved in the politics and feelings aroused by the whole matter. What surprises me is how none of the news websites I check regularly seem to want to show pictures of the drawings in question. Wow! You lot must be really scared. Normally, the mass media will unflinchingly show footage of ANYTHING, no matter how gory, senseless, ugly, brutal, disfiguring or otherwise inappropriate. However, come a case where one of their own was fired for his apparent lack of taste, and hey presto - no pictures, sirree, no, not here, not with us, sir, we, err, had nothing to do with it, err, why don't you go look somewhere else, sir? We're all just peaceful-minded individuals with a lot of respect for others' privacy and beliefs, sir. Bollocks! Please forgive my strong language, but this is hilarious - I can't believe major newspapers and their online editing staff don't have the nerve to show even one small jay-peg of the offending item. Not even with a two-pager legal disclaimer before it, nuh-uh. Nada. Zip. Wasn't me. So, in the name of investigative blogatism, I obviously HAD to trawl the murky depths of the net and, ta-daa!! Here's one of the offending pictures - shown, I would stress, not because of any desire to ridicule other religions, but simply because, according to the press, we all have a right to information, do we not? I dare say I obviously lack the religious background to find any meaning in this particular pic. There were others, such as the famed "bomb turban" pic, but hey, here's where I finally managed to locate this and other of the images in question, so if you're curious, go look for yourselves...