Breathe Through a Handkerchief

This one goes out to Ms. C (you know who you are!).

Some of the worst aspects of daily life are exactly what makes you miss the way it was years later. Before I packed up and headed off to other states, countries and continents for good, summer always brought at least a few days, but sometimes weeks, or even months of something completely unavoidable: hot, dry days that offered, at best, no more than a fluffy cloud that got no darker than white and delivered nary a drop of precipitation.

Before long, all the dirt roads turned into dust factories, just waiting for a truck to fly down them and whip the sandy red clay up into an arid but insistent afternoon fog that turned the rays of the sun visible as it drifted off in search of something brown and crackly to settle on.

Normally, that included my hair, or, at yet an even greater extreme, nostrils and ears. A good shower at the end of day was the only way to free myself of it. But not just a quick shower. Else, I would soon find the dust reappearing after I dried off, ready to accompany me to bed.

That stuff took work to get rid of. At least two good shampoos and soapy scrub-downs were needed. In a world where cleanliness was a code-word for godliness, The Almighty proved to be a stubborn and elusive fellow. Even the usually highly reliable Dial soap was forced to perform at its ultimate to get me there.

Letters Unseen?

Germany is arguably one of the safest countries on the face of the earth. The only other countries I can think of that give it a little competition are Sweden, Norway, Finland, Switzerland, Singapore and perhaps Japan. And within Germany, Bavaria is one of the safest states. To give you an idea of just how safe life is here, consider this: Mail carriers do not drive a secured car or van when delivering the mail each day. They ride a bicycle – yes, a bicycle!

When a mail carrier arrives at an apartment building, he or she simply parks the bicycle in front of the building, hop off, grabs the bundle of mail to be distributed, and heads into the building. He doesn't set any sort of alarm on the bicycle. He simply leaves the bicycle unattended right there in front of the building, still loaded with all the mail for the other buildings and recipients left on the rounds. If someone was truly intent on stealing the mail or the bicycle, there's little to stop them. Just grab a bundle of unsupervised mail or hop on the bicycle and speed off.

But that rarely happens. Instead, the bike and alls its yet-to-be-delivered mail stands there untouched until the mail carrier returns. It's a sight that leaves me feeling split right down the middle. On the one hand, it gives me a little hope for humankind. But, on the other hand, it trips a number of alarms in my head and makes me wonder how many letters addressed to me might have not ended up in my mailbox over the past ten years.

Threatening to Be Swallowed

On my last day in Venice back in April, I accompanied Cousins A. and K. to the train station and saw them off since their train was leaving a few hours earlier than mine. Afterwards, I decided to kill the time by taking one last stroll through Venice.

Since I had already seen the main tourist attractions, I took a walk toward a part of town I hadn't seen yet. It only took me 20 walking minutes to get there (Venice is really small!). The neighborhood was REALLY quiet. I came to a fairly wide canal, but there was as little traffic on it as there was on the sidewalks.

During the next five minutes or so, I strolled along the canal out toward the open water. So calm and quiet.

Suddenly, though, a booming sound came from the end of the canal back toward the center of town. As I stood there peering that way, a fairly large and very nice boat (definitely a rich boy's toy) came around the corner of the canal and headed in my direction. And the booming just got louder.

As the boat came nearer, I recognized the song: "Pokerface" by Lady Gaga. It just got louder and louder, so much so that it seemed to shake the buildings lining the sides of the canal. As the boat passed me and headed out toward the open ocean, the song's "PAH-PAH-PAH-PAH" and "MAH-MAH-MAH-MAH" lyrics filled every last ounce of spare air along the canal.

At first, I thought "What a disgrace!" But, then, on second thought, I thought "How apt!" After all, Venice has always been a major party city, in fact, probably the biggest one in Europe for a couple of centuries there. Anybody who was Somebody came here to shake their booties. This was the universal center of glitterati and paparazzi of that era. Cutting edge music, art, fashion, architecture, literature, etc., had its roots here. Capitalism was in a very healthy state.

It was a place where everyone lived for the moment and enjoyed every second of it. This only makes sense because people who were merely looking for community would have been the last to invest their hard-earned money here. This has always been a city that has been under constant threat of being swallowed up by the sea at any time. The highest point of ground in town is, after all, only about a foot above sea level. Here today. Gone tomorrow.

So I smiled and enjoyed every brash moment of "Pokerface" until the boat reached open water and headed away. Those folks way back then were truly onto something!

A Little Summer Midnight Music

MGMT: Electric Feel
Take a listen-and-see at the "Electric Feel" video from MGMT.
Sounds like it could've come right out of the 1970's, psychedelics and all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl93sT7P6Xw


Marilyn Manson: Tainted Love
Here's a really amusing remake of "Tainted Love" (remember Soft Cell's original version from the early 80's?). Marilyn finally lightened up a bit to show us his more comical side.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTcPIAewhMg


Boogie Pimps: Somebody to Love
Here's a really sharp remake of "Somebody to Love" (original done by Jefferson Airplane waaaay back in the late 60s/early 70s). Tongue in cheek big time!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRiiZ5M0_TQ


Jonas Brothers: Single Ladies
These boys must REALLY be getting bored with success. I'm sure any of us really need to see this one. But it's one of those where I could not decide if it was really bad, or if it really was not that bad. You judge.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKaL1Pd9nX4


Kelly Rowland: When Love Takes Over
Yup, I do like Europop. It doesn't look like a real video has yet been made of this song, but it is one of the best Europop dance records I've heard this year, so here's a music-only listen. The only and only David Guetta is the genius behind the sound and the equally no-two-like-her Kelly Rowland (the REAL singer in Destiny's Child) is the powerhouse voice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTDafjfxu5c


Black Eyed Peas: Boom Boom Pow!
And speaking of genius, will.i.am has really shown what he is capable of with this treat. It's going to be setting trends for years to come.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAI2-NqpC4I

Hoggin' Wild

This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed at home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went...
"Wee wee wee" all the way home...


One theme that crops up in virtually every corner of German language is the pig and all things piggish. Words with a pig reference carry the double-edged sense of filthy yet tasty, wild and destructive yet happy-spirited and funny, stupid yet cunning, ugly yet undeniably cute, wild and undisciplined yet not mean in spirit. German offers three basic nouns describing the various forms a pig may take: Sau (sow), Schwein (hog), and Ferkel (piglet) (and its synonym Schweinchen, or little pig or piggy). These three terms are then combined with a variety of other words to yield a vivid and picturesque vocabulary. Here are a few of my favorites:

Schweinegeld (literal translation: 'hog money') figuratively means a lot of money, or more vividly, megabucks, as in "he earns megabucks" or "that costs megabucks." If you are going shopping, there are two words you need to know: saubillig ('sow cheap'), which is best translated as dirt cheap, and sauteuer, ('sow expensive'), which means exorbitantly expensive or, if you want to get really gritty, f**king expensive.

If you want to go to a soccer game, you will need to make sure you don't run into a Schweinebande ('pack of hogs') that may be out and about. Figuratively, this term means pack of hooligans or pack of bastards. Nevertheless, it'a also often used in a more affectionate manner by farmers or guinea pig enthusiasts to describe their stable of animals.

But going back to its nastier connotation, a true Schweinebande is also likely to include a Schweinehund ('hog hound'), which, depending on the context, can mean a ratfink or bastard or that evil critter inside you that makes you cave in to worldly temptations, or even a Schweinepriester ('hog priest'), which is best translated as a son of a bitch. This troop of rascals may also include a few Schweinigel ('hog hedgehogs'), which are considered to occupy the lowest rung on the human social structure because they are the most coarse and most unclean characters conceivable. When this group of hooligans talk to each other, they schweinigeln, which means that they talk smut.

After the soccer game, these troublemakers often trash the city center, leaving behind a Schweinerei (a mess or great disorder that verges on being scandalous). But Schweinerei is also a quite flexible word in that it can also be used to describe the mess you create when you spill your cup of morning coffee all over your work desk.

Fortunately, this mishap does not make you a Schweinehund, Schweinepriester or Schweinigel, or, just as bad, a Saukerl ('sow guy'), which is basically a lout or yokel, or a Saubär ('sow bear'), which means an uncouth fellow or filthy bastard, or a Drecksau ('filthy sow'), or a Dreckschwein ('filthy hog'). A couple of adjectives that may be used to describe such characters are saublöd ('sow silly') or saudumm ('sow dumb'), both of which mean stupid or idiotic or really dumb. As you can see, the Germans really have that area covered.

As you and all of those other soccer fans are headed to the city arena for the afternoon game, you will be hoping for clear skies and pleasant temperatures. But your prayers will likely remain unanswered. After all, this is Germany, and you are more likely to get cloudy skies, one form of precipitation or another, cool to cold and clammy temperatures, and maybe even some chilly winds. The Germans call this type of weather Sauwetter ('sow weather'), whose English equivalent is nasty weather or lousy weather. And it may occur any time of year.

For example, today is June 6, and the weather here is saukalt ('sow cold'), in other words, it's cold as a witch's tit. The temperature is in the low 50s, heavy clouds are sprinkling us with drizzling rain, the air is humid, all in all downright messy.

In these conditions, you are not going to catch me at any outdoor arena. If I have to see the game, I will stay home in my saugemütlichen ('sow warm-and-cozy') apartment and feel sauwohl ('sow good'), which is equivalent to happy as a clam, although this may cause my schweinegroßen ('fat-ass') rear-end to expand even further and make me sauschwer ('sow heavy'), that is, heavy as a piano. But I'm not going to worry about that, especially if my team wins, which would be downright saugeil ('sow great'), or fantastic or really cool. On the other hand, if my team loses, that will be saumäßig ('sowlike'), which means beastly or rotten or lousy, and I will feel sauschlecht ('sow bad'), which is somewhere between horrible and awfully bad, as well as saumüde ('sow tired'), i.e. dog-tired.

Some Germans find all of this saulustig ('sow funny'), i.e. hysterical, or at least saukomisch ('sow odd'), which means hilarious or damn funny.

And there is one last word that you are not likely to find in any language except German: Pistensau ('ski slope sow'), which is a highly inconsiderate skier who hogs the ski slopes. The image of a pushy pig on skis knocking down everyone else as it rips toward the bottom of the snow hill is one that all of the Sauwetter in the world can't erase.

Will Mrs. Smith Go to Washington?

I just read that Angelina Jolie has dethroned Oprah Winfrey as the most powerful celebrity in the world. The good news for Winfrey is that she only fell one place, to No. 2. So she's still ahead of Madonna (No. 3), Beyonce (No. 4), and Tiger Woods (No. 5).

So that means that Oprah is still ahead of 98 of the others on the top 100 list. I don't think she has too much to worry about. She's still way ahead of Barack Obama (No. 49) and newcomer Taylor Swift (No. 69). Speaking of Taylor Swift, wouldn't it be fantastic if she and Oprah and Madonna and Beyonce and Angelina all got together to record a snappy No. 1 hit and video. And, what the hell, we might as well let Barack and Tiger make cameo appearances, as long as they promise not to sing or dance. (After watching Barack dance with Ellen last year and once hearing Tiger wreak havoc on "The Star Spangled Banner," I think that some fields are best left untilled.)

I gave some thought to why Ms. Jolie was able to achieve this meteoric rise and knock Ms. Winfrey out of the captain's chair. I ultimately decided that it was not just her ability to adopt one child after the other from Asia and Africa with virtually no problem (Madonna, I think you could learn a few lessons here), but to simultaneously pump out a few of her own, including twins. So the question is not simply how Angie Baby had time to build up a formidable challenge to the No. 1 spot in the midst of such a busy family life, but how she avoided getting all those fertility-treatment forms tangled up in all that adoption-agency red tape. (I guess having John Voight as a father must have left her with more than her fair share of good genes on making an unforgettable first impression no matter whether on film or in a Namibian hospital delivery room, which just happened to be near the town of Swakopmund. (I know, I know, that last tidbit of information is completely irrelevant, but I just could not pass up the chance to work it in here, no matter how far-fetched.)

Of course, once you become the winner of something, there is no place left to go but down. So how Ms. Jolie got to No. 1 will not be the thing that fascinates me the most: The most intriguing part of this story will be whether she is able to hold on to the position for years to come (like Oprah did) and how, if indeed, she is able to sustain such a formidable, er, act. Mr. Obama, your job may be in jeopardy!

Punching Bag Punches Back

Today was my first day back at work after being away three-and-a-half weeks for surgery. This, of course, meant that I had to spend most of the day accepting the awkward welcomes and forced sympathy of my colleagues... and sidestepping the it's-downright-killing-me curiosity of the department's world-class gossipers.

Yes, I, too, felt awkward in several cases, but not when it came to the gossip-mongers. In their case, I downright enjoyed playing with their nosy little minds. As a general rule, I don't bring my personal life or health concerns to work. I learned long ago that most people are much too busy with their own lives to expend any precious energy on trying to fix whatever is going on in mine. But then there are the those others, the gotta-know types. Not only do they want to know what is going on, but they also want to tell you how to fix it.

So, there, now you know for sure: The road to hell is, indeed, paved with good intentions. And I am now convinced more than ever that the highway construction team that built that road is made up of the gossip-mongers from my office.

The dynamics behind all of this are quite interesting, and they boil down to this: The very same people who are bending over backward and expending their precious resources to help me with some problem which I did not even know was a problem are, amazingly, incapable of resolving the far less complex problems that are continuously plaguing their own lives.

So this leads to the obvious question: Are these people really that clueless about how all of this works?

Personally, I think the answer to that question is a resounding "No!"

In their deepest soul, I think these corporate Oprahs have an inherent understanding of what they are doing, but they are to unable to confront themselves about it and are just too chicken to implement the perhaps harsh measures that would get them out of their vicious cycle.

In their heads, some tiny little voice keeps whispering that although they may not be able to solve their own problems, they are certainly better-than-certified to assist someone else who has far less important but far more manageable problems than themselves, in other words, me.

When they hand out their words of wisdom, they immediately feel a warm rush of meaningfulness/worthiness/fulfillment/superiority/righteousness throughout their entire bodies, even down to the very tips of their ten little fingers and ten little toes. And this feeling keeps flowing through their bodies all day long ... or at least until they come home for the day and again find themselves face-to-face with their own monster of problems. Once again finding themselves in the same ol' familiar cul-de-sac, they immediately run away and hope to escape their hopeless situation by collecting as much gossip as possible about others and then offering their services up as psychological consultant to the infinitely less needy.

To me, all of these gossipers are suffering from the "fix it" syndrome. They feel so threatened by the world at large that they do their best to control every possible aspect of it. They feel compelled to bring about order, under the illusion that this is actually going to give them peace of mind. So they gossip so that they will be as well equipped as possible with every last bit of information available just in case one of those tiny details proves to the watershed between disaster and heaven on earth. Oh yes, it's the old heaven-on-earth thing. Go figure.

Some of you may be saying, "Well, why not just simply ignore them?"

I agree with you, some of the time. Some "fix-it" types can indeed be shaken loose merely by not acknowledging their remarks. Indeed, as soon as another possible source of gossip sails into the harbor, these types rush off to pump information out of the new darling and they begin to leave me alone.

But then there are the "never-quit" types: No matter how many times I leave their questions unanswered or avoid their attempts to provoke me, they just are not going to give up. No matter what other interesting things may have happened in the meantime, they determinedly remain dedicated to prying information out of me. If I don't give them what they want, they turn nasty by spreading false information about me. I know that they do this because, on the one hand, it lets them relish in a bit of revenge, and, on the other hand, they hope that this tactic will get me to open up, in defense of myself if for no other reason.

If things do get this out of hand, I usually do go on the offensive. One tactic that works in some cases is to respond to their queries with the following statement of one-upmanship: "I really and truly do not mind sharing my own personal challenges with you, but I hear that you are facing much more serious and difficult problems yourself, and I would never want to burden you with my such minor problems in comparison."

If they get frantic and ask, "What problems?!!!," I respond by assuring them that I respect them so much that I do not want to risk doing harm to our friendship by delving into the matter any further and by perpetuating rumors that are most probably untrue anyway. This usually leaves them confused enough that they run away to pump someone else about any rumors circulating about them.

This approach is successful about 25% of the time.

By this time, most of the problem personalities have been effectively quieted or neutralized. Yet, there seem to be a few tough characters against whom no tricks of mine hit the bull's eye. So, with them, I simply take the high road by publicly and privately complimenting them at every occasion possible on their intelligence, their innovation, their productivity, their resourcefulness, their teamwork capabilities and any other aspects I can think of. On the one hand, this helps convince them that I certainly do not represent a threat to them, thus leaving them with plenty of time to worry about someone else who may begin to threaten them. On the other hand, it makes me looks like such a team player and wimp that only a fool would consider me to be a threat to anyone.