Mittwoch, 30. Januar 2013

The bad kind of snow


 14°C, the sun is out, the jacket is off and the jumper is only on so I don't seem too German.
Sitting here one the île-de-St.-Louis on the banks of the Seine blinking in the sun, it's kind of hard to imagine that last week it was all covered in snow. Not much, just enough to slow the whole city down. After the obligatory snowball fight that really brought together all generations, the streets were almost empty.
Though the white dress looks great on Paris, the problem remains the same as with everything pure: it spoils very easily. So after one afternoon of strolling around the sugar-coated city and a night during which the absence of a howling siren for more than 15 minutes almost made you feel like something was wrong, the next morning came. Paris spoiled its dress and it spoiled it good. Streets, sidewalks, houses, even the sky, all the same colour. A dirty grey that got darker as the days went by. And still there was hardly anybody on the streets, which makes you wonder: Where the hell is everybody? They can't all just sit at home watching TV, playing cards ranting about gays and taxes.
The solution is actually quite simple: The metro.
It's an almost surreal feeling going down the stairs from the empty and quiet streets to the station and all of a sudden you are standing in a hectic and noisy sea of people, an underground society that reminds one of dwarfs in their mines. Seems there is no need to buy winter tires but somehow a lot of people decided it was inevitable to purchase full body Eskimo costumes so they wouldn't freeze to death on the way from the metro to work, which in Paris, by design, is never more than 500 meters away.
Well, now the whole spook is over. The streets are black again. You can tell the dark grey of the sidewalks apart from the light grey of the houses and the sky is actually blue. Even the Eskimo invasion is over and everyone’s clothing went back to normal: Tight jeans, striped shirts with a neckerchief and a beret framing the moustaches. I prefer it that way!

Greetings from the Arctic Circle














                                      



                                       

Freitag, 4. Januar 2013

New years and apocalypses

 First things first: Happy new year everybody! I hope it's going to be a great one for all of you, although I have to say, since I don't know who is reading here, I don't even know if I want this year to be great or even decent for you. Just imagine if LeBron James were to read it...
I should have probably posted this on FB where it's only read by my real friends but it's too late now.
I have to say I never quite got the concept of New years resolutions. I might even go as far as saying that they probably are the reason for all the evil in world. Let me explain:
The idea to decide the direction you want your life to go on the probably drunkest night of the year just doesn't seem like a good plan to me. Make January 2nd resolutions! This way you can avoid resolutions loaded with the aggressiveness of alcohol, which quite possibly account for racism, genocide and Bayern Munich, and all the ones related to the death wishes of the New Years day hangover.
To give you an example:
My personal plan for New Years Eve was apparently to enthuse some American friends with my love of German Old School Hip Hop. This plan was obviously doomed to fail and was definitely only possible with an alcohol level that would have made my personal hero David Hasselhoff proud. Thinking about it now, the only way to top that level of naiveté of my New Years Eve would have been trying to explain the beauty of german lovesongs to a heartbroken Italian woman in her late 50s.

With that off my chest the only thing left to say is: Enjoy 2013 and be proud that not only did you survive the apocalypse of new years eve 1999 but also the Mayan doomsday this year.
Oh one more thing: Say “old Mexicans” instead of “Mayans” and no one cares when Old Mexicans think the world is going to end.