So the Federal Republic of Germany turned 60 on Saturday. Which meant we queued up to walk through the former government buildings in Bonn, such as the Chancellor’s and President’s residences. Hate to say it, but the modernist style of Germany’s version of the White House left me unimpressed. It did, however, have a lot of nice windows. The President’s place was more in the classic style that one would expect. We didn’t go in, because we were sick of standing in line.
One bitch about German drycleaners: they extend the creases all the way up to the waistband. I asked if it was possible to only crease the legs. Nope. Can’t be done. It’s either all or nothing. Damn ass creases!
This white asparagus (spargel, in German) is starting to grow on me. But I was still happy to track down the green variety, which I paired with some wild rice thanks to a delicious recipe in the New York Times.
I have a tendency to giggle when confronted with bad theater. I know, it’s rude. But why does everyone feel the need to take art, particularly bad art, so seriously? I certainly can’t. This year, for Theaternacht, we first stopped by the European Commi
ssion, which cheerfully served up free alcohol and food (that’s what we love about Europe!) and screened Kitchen, Hall, Bathroom, a video on three screens which showed 12 European apartments and which was accompanied by the director making noise on various instruments. The actress spoke lines from something having to do with Zeus. It was horrible. No plot. Lots of screeching on a violin and lights flipped on and off. I did like seeing 12 toilets flush simultaneously, but that was it. Next stop: a saw a couple of mediocre comedians and some German rockabilly, a scene which I have yet to fully comprehend, but at least they could play their instruments. The last production was called Theater Water Music, which consisted of one guy playing an accordian while the other recited completely bizarre prose extremely slowly: “The ice man was in the iceburg with ice cream.” I giggled myself to sleep and kept getting jerked awake again by my head falling back. Next year, we’re going to buy the tickets early so that we can actually see something with a plot, or at least with intended hilarity.
(photo credit: Kueche, Diele, Bad)
I had to upgrade my main mode of transport recently after the down tube on my old bike broke in half (!). Leaving it in the rain for 4 years apparently rusted it out completely. Who knew. I’m now the proud owner of a silver Peugot circa 1980 with red accents. It’s a smooth ride. I feel like I updated from a 1993 Ford Escort to a 1998 VW Jetta. Yep, movin’ right on up in the world.
