To Quote or Not to Quote?

They say (whoever “they” are?!?) that to be quoted is one of the highest forms of flattery. They also say that quoting oneself is one of the highest forms of self-absorbed arrogance (especially when referring to oneself in the third person).

So, in a feeble attempt to be less self-absorbed and flattered more often I’m providing you the world (at least the small part that lives on my remote island somewhere off the cyber-space Argentinean coast (no, not Cyber Falklands either!!!)) the opportunity to assist me in this endeavor. Below are some of my sayings, most of which I thought up some years back living in Houston, Texas sucking down a thermos of coffee at 7 AM when I used to commute 1 hour each way to a soul sucking job. Ah, yes…. Good times and good memories. Living with Crazy Box Lady, eating take-out every night and getting fat, isolated from family and friends and having my only intellectual conversations with my Jack Russell…..But I digress…..

Enjoy!

Wealth does not equate to style. What it merely does is accentuates either one’s subtle sense of style or grotesque lack thereof.


In time all things pass, if you let them.


There is no need to rush. We all know our ultimate destination and only a fool is anxious to get there.


Things don't happen for a reason, Things happen, we give them reason.


Everything’s clear in the sterile world of sobriety.


I go out of my way to be different from the rest of humanity if for no other reason than just to prove my humanity.


I don't get angry with all the idiots in this world. They actually make me smile as it just makes me look that much better.


You own nothing, you control nothing, except yourself and that's if your lucky.


Television is cotton candy for the mind. Like sugar, if you ingest too much before bedtime you won't be able to sleep.


I orgasm, therefore I am.


I often run into old acquaintances in the oddest of places. You'd think that with all the people on this planet I'd occasionally meet somebody new.


I think that when we finally encounter Extra-terrestrials they will be more Godlike than we ever imagined.


If there is one certainty in life it is that you will be lied to and deceived by those who love you the most. This should not be cause for consternation as it is evidence of the blessing of free will that allowed them to love you in the first place. It is as inevitable and unpreventable as the sunrise.


The Tao (path of balance and harmony) is wide but slippery. So much so, that we often find ourselves in either gutter.


To discover the truth one must first find one's soul.


We are all hypocrites but the worst ones are those who fail to admit it.


I do not parade my faith around on a bumper sticker or T-shirt. I prefer to keep quiet and trust that it will be there when I need it.


How come you never ever see any attractive homeless people. I mean, statistical probability speaking there has to be a few, right?


It is human nature to be critical and fearful of those things that we do not understand. Since I live in a contact state of panic and cynicism I must understand nothing.


Nothing hurts more than one’s own doubts and fears. Compared to these, even death is painless.


I disagree with the statement that life is short. From my observation most people have given up living long before they actually die.


The search for truth is as elusive and pointless as that for the Holy Grail. Like that sacred chalice, God has hidden truth well and knows better than to share something so noble with the likes of humanity.


I had a great childhood, all 30 minutes of it.


Humanity is the electrons, protons and neutrons of the social universe. We bounce around in a random fashion attracting and repulsing each other with the occasional neutrality, forming relationship molecules. Our bonding and splitting like a chemistry experience gone awry has the potential to blow up in our face at any moment.


Do not concern yourself with matters surrounding a broken heart. There are plenty of fish in the sea! All you have to do is pick up another one that’s floating sideways on the top.


How come you can never find a pizza on a menu that has EXACTLY all the ingredients you want? There is always something missing or something that completely spoils it unless you order a la carte which always costs you more.

All relationships should last just three hours like a great epic movie. By the time the credits roll the cinematic magic is over.

Origins of a "EuroSnob"

(Photo of Frankfurt am Main, Germany aka "Mainhatten", my current home and a perfect harmonious mixture of green and glass)

I think perhaphs there is something genetically defective about a person who desires to leave the country where they were born and raised and of their own un-coerced volition resettle in a foreign land where the language, culture and customs are completely different and often baffling. There must be a recessive gene being passed harmlessly through generations until those rare times when it surfaces to strike the biological makeup up of our now hopelessly inflicted mutant.

I can’t say for certain when the first time I realized that I was different, inflicted as it were with this mutation. Maybe it was when I was 6 attending a Montessori school, where thanks to the freedom of scholastic choice these schools afforded I monopolized my days with the study of “big book” world atlases and a game I invented with country picture flashcards similar in vein to the $20,000 Pyramid. Or maybe it was the $60,000 Pyramid, I can never remember with inflation. Then there was High School, the great governmental institution indoctrinating young American minds into the carbon copy print, ready for the pursuit of the American Dream and the capitalist treasures continued therein.

I had been to Mexico once when I was 13 and Canada at 15 but they hardly seemed exotic enough. Somehow between the proliferation of English and desire for American dollars especially in Mexico made it seem all too safe and familiar. No, when I was 16 sitting there in Algebra or some other such nonsense my mind was far away across an ocean I had never traversed and in countries I had never seen except for on TV. Old and civilized European lands where Kings and Queens had once and still ruled, thousands killed over the centuries in the name of God and where now the age of consent of all those sinful activities deemed fun and rewarding by youth were notoriously lower.

How exotic and exciting to not be able to count on two hands the number of centuries these civilizations had existed and where billions of souls of past and present resided in a constant state of agitation and compromise. Where you could cross five countries in day and still have enough energy to go out at night to a Disco filled with as many citizens of the planet as there were specialty cocktails on the menu. No, these were the dreams of my youth though at that tender age I did not have means or capacity to practically encourage its realization.

But I did realize one thing that day in class under the school’s bright florescent lights and inside the sterile room of that learning institution which coddled all its young Americans in its cultural illusion. I realized I was different, a “mutant” as I now like to say, and I could never feel truly well within the political borders of my native land ever again.

So, now I officially introduce myself to the world unapologetically, mutant, Ex-pat, even Euro Snob if you like. To all those that have known me long and closely I will always be your friend, son, nephew, lover, ex-husband etc. but there is that enigmatic part of me you will never completely understand.

Slovakia: You should have never given up on that whole sweet Czechoslovakia gig

Bratislava, the capital city of Slovakia (don’t giggle, that’s what they call it). Actually, it used to be called a more respectable “Bresburch“ until the Slovakians decided they were too good for their Austria-Hungarian masters and wanted their own piece of the earth to grow potatoes.





The flat we rented was fantastic and less than 50 meters from the “medieval” St. Michael’s gate which was 5 a minutes walk from everything one needed to see. Great service, recommended, tell them J-dub sent ya http://www.bratislavahotels.com/




While Bratislava would not rate in the top ten of my favorite Eastern European cities it does contain most of the elements that make this region so endearing:

- A lovely “Old” Town in the center painstakingly rebuilt within the past 10 years to look "old" and containing all the elements western tourists are used to (Irish Pub included)

- Cheap everything!

- Lots of language barriers that make for some humorous interpersonal exchanges with the locals

- Funny looking money with lots of “zeros” that test your math skills when trying to figure out exactly just how much that cappuccino cost

- Packs of drunk, pasty white, unhealthy looking working class English guys on a Stag (Bachelor) Party weekend because of cheap Ryan Air flights (the only way to fly in Europe http://www.ryanair.com/site/EN/)

- Conveniently located castle on a hill where several important things happened over the past thousand years (for more on Bratislava 12 attractions see http://www.bratislava.info/attractions/)

Glaringly missing however were the good shops filled with indifferent employees, well dressed local women trying to get noticed by westerners, local businessmen trying to rip you off. In short, Bratislava was missing…..people. I’ve never seen a national capital so deserted. Good Nightlife, no Daylife.



In the Old Town there were numerous examples of these "people" statues coming out of manholes, leaning out of windows, peering around corners etc. presumably to compensate for the lack of actual people on the street

While in most capitals one would see Prada, D&G, Benetton, um…. it appears that Bratislava has a little ways to go in their pursuit of western fashion.

Once the sun goes down and all 32 people return home, the night heats up (no, really it does). One good place is the Cirkus Barok Disco Boat when after a few drinks you get used to the feeling that you’re sinking. For more good ideas on Brats nightlife http://www.bratislavaguide.com/bratislava-clubs







Paying homage to the glowing, radiant bringer of all (night)life in the Barok Disco Boat.

In the distance is the UFO restaurant/disco towering over the Danube, which we tried to go to, but was closed due to “technical” reasons whatever that means. Alien labor strike?

Three AM comfort food. Not quite IHOP but a well placed Shawarma, Gyro or Döner always hits the spot.

Some more of the Old Town architecture. A three hour historical walking tour was interesting even if one learns that most of their history was borrowed from Hungary and Czech Republic. For instance, the city’s big claim to fame is that for several hundred years it was the coronation city for the Hapsburg Kings and Queens of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. I’m thinking it was because they got a good deal on the flight and room. Oh yeah, and there’s a cannon ball from Napoleon’s army still lodged in a church where he was here for his similar “scorched earth” weekend.




Nightlife adventure, take two, where we started this evening at none other than the Dubliner Irish Pub home of the most expensive beer in town (a pint will cost you whopping $1.50). Meet Jana, we fell in love instantly (or at least I did) and her intelligence, beauty and warmth were the most redeeming things I found in this city.

Falling into the “Ring of Fire” (Just call me the “Man in Grey”) at Karaoke night at the Dubliner.

On to next location, a great R&B/Hip Hop club named La Verna. Recommended!

Damn you Eric for spotting that bottle of Absinthe behind the bar.

Damn….damn…damn

Mingling, dancing, chatting and generally mixing it up with the friendly locals La Verna. And they know how to do the "Humpty Dance"!!!


















Just to prove that this wasn’t an Absinthe related hallucination there IS an actual slide between floors at La Verna.

Sundays in Bratislava, the name of this café says it all!

Sprechen Sie Mardi Gras?

Fasching!

No it’s not the name of the type of government Mussolini founded but you couldn't remember for that Sophomore Government exam but rather the German version of what is also called Carnavale and Mardi Gras in other countries. In short that time when all Catholics and wannabe Catholics go nuts before the month of Lent where they are supposed to give up such life necessities such as drinking alcohol, chocolate, and even sex. (Yeah, right!) Well, in Deutschland unbeknownst to many are some of the most intense celebrations where Germans go nuts with the same level of precision and effort which they exude in their other endeavors. Forget the painted ladies of Rio and the back alley knife fights, forget the New Orleans breast baring (yawn!) and thousand of college kids bumping into you and puking on your shoe rushing for a few plastic beads and come to Köln (Cologne), the center of Fasching in the Vaterland!















(One of many paked "Lokals" where partying is conducted on any open surface)

Here in this town of several hundred thousand, the celebration is not an event isolated to an age range, socio-demographic group or even a location, in Cologne everyone and I mean everyone parties everywhere in the entire region, “from 8 to 80, blind, crippled or crazy”. (Big Daddy Kane, et al. 1989) And even cooler, everyone dresses in costumes. The holiday plays out like this: (continues on left of photo below)

(The "weapon" of choice for Fasching , these little beers for 2 Euros and served very conveniently (and dangerously) 0n magic floating sombreros with big blue phallic-like markers to attract the attention of even the most "unfocused" client.)

Instead of just one big night like Fat Tuesday there are a series of special days. The first begins on that Thursday before and is called Altweibernacht which translates as Old Wenches Night. Back in the day, even wife swapping was deemed as a socially acceptable way to celebrate (but just for this one night, dear) and stories of putting the keys in the bowl upon entrance to the party house abound. Now it’s more tradition for the women to go out regardless of their marital status and get crazy while the man stays at home and watches football (soccer) and burps little Helmut. And remember, what happens in the Altstadt stays in the Altstadt. This festival starts at 11:11 AM (Central European Time) so you can imagine where we’re all at by... say, 7PM?

( Altweibernacht: A 34-yr old mother of two. She borrowed this ugly orange tie from her husband's drawer and by the end of the night she was giving it to me as a "souvenir" of our "special moments" together.)

The parties continue (in costume mind you) all thorough out the weekend non-stop culminating in a giant parade that lasts eight hours on RosenMontag (Rose Monday) followed by more celebrations until Tuesday evening until hangovers and old age catch up to most of us and we pass out just in time for Lent.

(One has to be naughty, I mean really naughty to piss off a devil)






During this period no one works in Cologne unless they are engaged in making money but other than that the whole city and frankly the region around it closes and is focused on this event. Germans are happy, singing, playing instruments on the streets, talking to strangers, disregarding minor infractions of the law and basically loving their neighbor, which begs the question why can’t everyday be Fasching? (Especially if those days fell between the years 1914-1918 and 1939-1945)




Towards the end of a very long and festive evening....This 20-yr old decided I was "kissable just because" and then exclaimed once she found out my age, "Oh wow, I kissed an old man.", but then continued unabashed. Oh, little beers in blue phallic magic floating sombreros, how I love thee.)