Ahh, Bavaria. Home to the Bavarian Motor Works, Vladmir Lenin and Adolph Hitler, and the Beer Hall Putsch - most of what's left are the Beemers and of course Oktoberfest - then there's been Mozart, Wagner, Mahler, Strauss, Lou Bega and Freddie Mercury, all whom called München (Munich) home along with painters Paul Klee and Wassily Kandinsky, but certainly not all at the same time. What a city that would have been - "Poker with Hitler, Kandinsky and Mercury on Thursday, Becky - pencil me in". "Yes, I know Adolf's a little sweet on Freddie but I'll talk him out of it. Don't worry." But today, post Oktoberfest, things seem a good bit more quiet - now that the six million tourists are gone and the Süddeutsche Zeitung has stopped speculating on terrorist activity at the festivities, things can seem just down right suburban and considering that we're living in Germany's richest city, with the country's lowest unemployment rate, that can be positively sobering in our comparitively eastern
European neighborhood of decidedly suburban apartments. The picture you see above is in Marienplatz, the city center, so no - that's not our house. I'll get to that a few posts later. But just last week I started working, some very small consulting jobs when I saw a meticulously maintained red, 67 Aston Martin and realized that I was still a long way from enjoying the best of what this city has to offer. But that's ok. At least I'm here - and for those of you who've followed our tour through Frankfurt, Paris and Mali, that's enough to know that we've landed on our feet and are ready to rock München.
My conspicuous sparcity of posts will now end and we'll get on with a whole week of "Nothing much happened" posts, because, well, nothing much HAS happened - but let's start with the big news...our sidewalk. Oh, no. That's too big a story. It could take me days to explain how one of the wealthiest cities in the world replaces a sidewalk - or why? Later. So give me some time, patient readers - while I dig into the last few weeks and come up with the best dirt I can - like why German grocery stores just kick the living shit out of anything in America - but not France. Or the machines they have at the grocery stores that spin your returned glass and plastic bottles around as lasers scan them and then spit out a reciept with your refund money - or the power flushing device on my toilet that sprays the hell out of the inside but I still have to use a spot of t-paper on the stubborn spots - or the eastern European rock I've been listening to - or, later ... just later. I promise...Nothing much happened in Munich today, except she lost her point.
How I wish you could see the potential,
the potential of you and me.
It's like a book elegantly bound but,
in a language that you can't read.
Just yet.
You gotta spend some time, Love.
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you'll find, love
I will possess your heart.
You gotta spend some time, Love.
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you'll find, love
I will possess your heart.
