For example, on Friday night we went out to dinner with Pete and some of the Navy Reservist docs who had spent a year here "deployed" at Landstuhl and who were preparing to head home. (Yes, when you're in the Navy, apparently you are "deployed" to four hours west of Paris. But no, Gwen, Pete and I aren't bitter.) It was a farewell shindig of sorts. We ate some food, had a few drinks, and then went next door to a bar. Dinner was nice, and so was the catching up, telling stories, and hearing how people "really felt" about certain things, etc. Then we got to the bar, which was loud and smoky and within ten minutes I remember thinking, "This is weak - I want to go home." It was crowded, smoky and loud and the fact that I'm complaining about those things here and now officially makes me old. I feel like this more and more often.
Saturday morning I had one of my patented and coveted 'lazy mornings' where I sleep in, roll downstairs with vintage bed head, collapse onto the couch, drink coffee, surf the internet and either read a book or play a video game. Typically this herculean feat of laziness lasts all morning and is interrupted only when Gwendolyn slyly implies that we should consider doing something productive with the day. Often I tend to disagree but she usually wins. This particular weekend I delved further into "The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich," a heartwarming tale of a boy and his dream. At times laborious but absolutely fascinating, I've been really enjoying this book. People seem genuinely astonished when I tell them I have trouble putting it down - but I honestly do. It's mesmerizing. I'm about half-way through currently and more to follow in a future post.
When the afternoon rolled around and my lazy morning came to a tearful end, Gwen and I went curtain shopping for my apartment (Curtain shopping: another sign of the apocalypse, or of being old - I can't tell) at the massive and imposing "Mobel Martin", which is the undisputed Death Star of furniture stores. Whenever I walk in, I have visions of a Gran Moff Tarkin-like figure presiding grimly over a control room in its upper levels. (Tarkin - played by Peter Cushing - was English, but he certainly had a German Field Marshall look about him, didn't he?) Put Mobel Martin in orbit near an IKEA, and I swear you'd hear "Stand By" twice, sense a dramatic pause, and then see a pristine green laser obliterate the Scandinavian flagship.
We also picked up a sharp-looking rug for the in-progress Man Room, which continues to come together slowly but surely. We'll be headed to Jacksonville later this week before I can really hunker down and address the aforementioned internet issues, but upon my return, and if I'm successful in getting things running smoothly, Man Room will be a formidable power indeed. Not quite Mobel Martin, but not unlike a young Annakin Skywalker. Somehow I must steer it to the light.
There has been a carnival here in Kaiserslautern, an event which occurs twice-yearly and which Gwen and I have been to before. Small in scale, but proportionately large for K-town, Gwen and I managed to cruise through a small portion of it on Saturday. Unfortunately we hit it a little early, before the thing really came alive. There was, however, a strong preteen funboy element beginning to form and grow in strength, as one would expect at any large German event, and it was amusing to watch various youths stake out their claim near various booths (one which featured horse meat) and on various walls. Once in place, they would assume some derivation of the same pose - a foot up on the wall, a cigarette in hand, and a colored faux hawk displayed prominently like some sort of techno-era peacock showing off its wares. We didn't stick around to watch the shit go down, but one can assume that the poor preteen German women were mercilessly and indiscriminately slain by the limitless charms of those described above.
We DID get to see this, however.
That's right - it says ICE MAN on the back.
Saturday night we stayed in, largely because I had an online fantasy basketball draft. As I type that and italicize the basketball portion (I mean come on - this is clearly football season), I realize that I have a problem. I shall elaborate in a future post (or promise to elaborate in a future post), but let it be known that my obsession with fantasy sports (football primarily, but also baseball, hoops, even hockey) is becoming scary, maybe even dangerous.
On Sunday I enjoyed another lazy morning, and the rest of the day was spent preparing for football and then, of course, watching football. I had the rare privilege to witness my Giants and all four of my fantasy teams win for the second time this season.
Sometimes life is good.
2 comments:
I can't believe you got a bear-skin rug (with head still attached) for you man room.
That rocks. Nice work.
Ahh the bed head Mick at noon - good times.
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