more daydreaming


This sculpture is one I pass regularly as I walk my dogs Ella and Louis along the River Isar. Something about her staring off in the distance pleases me immeasurably.

Recently, I noticed that someone had spray painted some nonsense on her side, and I thought, ‘I’m glad I’ve got multiple photos of her without the new tag.’

At some point she’ll be cleaned up, but in the meantime this is what I’ll remember.

And for those of you nudging me and saying, ‘Hey, what’s that green stuff all around her right eye?’ I’m not sure. I’m trying to ignore it.


Don’t Mess with the River Isar

Don’t Mess with the River Isar

Oh man. This is good. There are plenty of things I’ve got to write about, but this Don’t Litter ad is making the rounds – I saw it at the Eldorado Cinema last night – and I think it’s brilliant.

At the end, it says, ‘Zuhause machst du’s ja auch nicht,’ which means, ‘Yeah, you don’t litter at home.’

Ella and Louis (my sister and brother Vizslas) and I spend quite a lot of time on the River Isar that runs through Munich. We completely support any attempts to get people to treat the area better.

Reminds me of the old Don’t Mess with Texas ads I saw growing up that served the same purpose. Yet another Bavaria is the Texas of Germany argument. For good or ill.


Shedding the Kummerspeck



Why do I find myself going back again and again to photos of my trip to Seville?

It’s not only that it’s such a beautiful place – I’ve seen my share of those. There’s something about Spain in general and Seville in particular.

So this is a bending, sunlit corridor. At this particular moment, it seemed like the way to approach the blog this evening.

Plenty going on in the world of lahikmajoe presently. For one thing, I’ve got family visiting. That’s often good for a bit of fodder for the old Miscellaneous Blog. After that, or during their visit, the World Cup kicks off.

I could tell you I think Argentina has an easy draw and they’ll waltz through their group, but everyone knows that. Not very optimistic about the chances of the United States team, but every four years the fans get their hopes up. I’d say Germany was an early favourite a year or two ago, but they seem mismanaged of late. We’ll see if they can turn that around. I’ll certainly be cheering them on. I’m always for my adopted homeland. It’s a thing with me.

Otherwise, the weather has turned warm, or warmer, and the mostly beautiful of Munich have begun their annual shedding of Kummerspeck (‘grief bacon’) and clothing of nearly all sorts. I suppose I should talk about those last things at another time – hopefully soon.



a clear picture in a dark cinema

The old man seems to be trying to tell us something.

The old man seems to be trying to tell us something.

The last week was spent watching movies. Mostly.

Of course, Ella and Louis still needed to go out, and I had a day trip to Bamberg on business. That’s to say, life didn’t stop for the Filmfest München, but plenty was put on hold. There are not only plenty of film reviews left to write, but some of the things I’ve neglected are in desperate need of attention.

However, in the midst of rushing from one screening to the next, there was just enough time for daydreaming. The thoughts I come up with in those moments sometimes find their way into something fit for publication, but more often than not I turn here to this blog to leave such ideas.

And what might I have for you in that regard? Well, I’ve been pondering transcendence. There’s that moment that sometimes occurs when listening to music or watching sport when it’s almost as if time stands still. Every once in a while, you get that while watching a movie.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be great film in order to have such a moment, but it doesn’t hurt. Considering how many films I saw in the last week, statistically the likelihood is that I’d have a bit of transcendence.

For me, the most dramatic example came where I least expected it. I’ll be doing a proper review of the rather conventional movie Stuck in Love on another site, and if I remember to do so, I’ll even come back here and link to it. Yet what I want to say about it here may or may not fit in such a format.

One of the main characters, played by Greg Kinnear, is being told by everyone around him that he needs to let go emotionally of his ex wife. He’s still going by her house and looking in the windows – hoping beyond hope that she’ll come to her senses and return to him.

Personally, I didn’t relate to the specificities of the plot, but at the same time I’ve definitely held out for the impossible. Even when those who cared for me warned me about risky decisions I was making, I was hellbent on having it my way.

Whether it turned out well for the guy in the movie is immaterial (it did), but it was that moment where he finally let go of those expectations he’d been clutching onto so desperately that spoke to me. The look on his face when he realised the actions of others were truly beyond his control – that’s when I had one of those cliché aha moments.

Sometimes cinema is a wonderful distraction.

In this case, it provided a clear picture of how easily one can simply let go.





and so it begins


The Filmfest in Munich officially started last night, but the first day of screenings for regular folk is here. The day is upon us.

As much as I enjoy living here, I really miss independent film. This is the only week of the year one can catch work by obscure film makers.

Not all of it is good, but them’s the breaks. I can’t promise I’ll talk about every film I see, but my intention is to at least mention the misses, as well as the attention I always give the hits. Hold onto your hats. And so it begins.

not a Berliner

There in the distance? That's the JFK bridge in Hamburg.

There in the distance? That’s the JFK Bridge in Hamburg.

Lately, there’s been plenty for me write about, and I just haven’t been doing it. The last several posts were photos that I certainly liked, but there wasn’t much text. The whole point of this blog is to show off my writing, so these filler posts without much content go against what I originally set out to do. There might be times when a curious photo and a few lines of texts is all I’ve got time or energy for, but I’d prefer that to be the exception rather than the rule.

My favourite week in Munich tends to be when we have our Filmfest, which starts this weekend, so I already had something up my sleeve in which I’d planned to ramp up this blog again. Then I was out and about with Ella and Louis, the sister and brother Hungarian Vizslas that have featured prominently in this blog, and found myself walking across the John F. Kennedy Bridge.

Why not at least  a mention of what happened today, 26 June, exactly 50 years ago? If you’re like I am, you check out ‘this day in history’-type entries in the paper or online, so you already know that this is the day in 1963 that Kennedy gave his famous ‘Ich bin ein Berliner‘ speech in front of the Rathaus Schöneberg in West Berlin

Whatever you think of his politics, and I’m most certainly not going to get into that here, it was the height of the Cold War, and a significant gesture of solidarity to the citizens living in the divided once and future capital of Postwar Germany.

The Berlin Wall went up, and the Americans response was to send planes in filled with supplies, so that the city could continue to survive while surrounded by  Soviet-supported East Germany. Not an easy time here in my adopted home country, and at that moment in history it was incredibly unclear what was going to happen next.

The gratitude that West Germany felt for Kennedy’s show of support – both symbolic, as well as practical – was what led to major German cities naming things like bridges after him. The one here in Munich is the northern part of the Middle Ring Road that goes over the River Isar. It’s not particularly beautiful, and I doubt many locals under a certain age even realise that the bridge even has a name. 

The Kennedy Bridge in Hamburg (pictured above) is what divides the Binnenalster and Außenalster, which are the beautiful lakes right in the heart of the Hansestadt that is Hamburg. Whether you’re on the S-Bahn or ICE Train between the Main Train Station and the Dammtor, in which case you’re riding along the JFK Bridge, or walking along the Alster, there’s a memorial to Kennedy staring back at you. 

Fifty years. Not such a terribly long time, I suppose. Wonder if they’d still name any of this stuff after him today.