German baseballers go for glory

Here’s Douglas Sutton‘s article in The Munich Eye about baseball in Germany:

German baseballers go for glory.

Thanks Douglas. Great article.

You didn’t even know we had baseball over here, did you? I’ve written about the game before, because I associate it with both my dad and my Nana. It’s one of the only things I miss about living in the US.

Play ball!

Walking by the Wies’n: from the train station to the Westend

Sunrise on the way to the Wies’n

What a perfect morning it was yesterday. My dogs have turned a corner this summer when it comes to training, and I can leave them off their leads when there’s little traffic. I still have to watch them carefully and am aware it’s still dangerous in a big city. Nevertheless, we have a wonderful time in the early morning when the city’s just beginning to shake off its slumber.

So, the Oktoberfest has begun and I’ve decided to write about it here on my miscellaneous blog. My aim is to share the peripheral stories of the world’s biggest folk festival. Our tour takes us by the site of the Wies’n, which is what the locals call the 2-week event, and through the Westend neighbourhood of Munich.

These guys go round doing odd jobs for people, and they’re paid based on bartering for their labour

These are journeymen, and for hundreds of years they’ve learned a trade by going ‘on the tramp‘, which I assume is where the term ‘tramp‘ comes from. If you’re interested, I’ll do some more research about these guys and write about this phenomenon in more detail.

statue outside of St Paul’s

Now we’re near the Oktoberfest. This guy’s outside of St Paul’s, which is the church across from the Wies’n. I included a photo of it in one of yesterday’s blogposts. Again, I’ll find out who he is if you want me to.

‘Döner macht schöner’

This marketing slogan means that if you eat Döner either life will be more beautiful or you will be more beautiful. Yet you can’t eat it at this location anymore, because they’ve closed shop. Used to be good, though. I promise.

Marais: Geschmackssachen

Named after a neighbourhood in Paris, this is my favourite café in this part of the city. It’s just the right sort of quirky. Ever find yourself in the Westend, step in and have a look around.

There…that’s enough for today. It may seem like this has nothing to do with the Oktoberfest, but I assure you it does. Be patient and you’ll know a bit more about my adopted hometown than you would even if you were here swilling their amazing Bavarian beer.

Texas is for Lovers

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Texas is for Lovers

In Notting Hill in London, there’s a shop, that’s been written about here before called the The Idler Academy of Philosophy Husbandry and Merriment, and I made the voyage to its doors. Upon arrival, I sat amongst the tomes and looked across the room to see the above.

A man wearing a shirt that said ‘Texas is for Lovers‘. A bit innocuous, you say? Well, that’s not quite how I see it.

There certainly are plenty of lovers in Texas, if you want to include all the baby daddies and ne’er-do-well deadbeat fathers that the place is littered with. I can already hear the protests from both Texans and friends of Texans saying things like, ‘But lahikmajoe, what’re you talking about? There are good fathers there in the Land of Lovers, as well.

Well, I suppose I’ll give you that.

However, this marketing campaign that the authorities in Texas have devised to make themselves appear more amorous than they really are is not only false advertising, but it’s rather unbecoming. What if a poor, unsuspecting soul were to read the message on that t-shirt and actually make his way to Texas in search of All the Lovers.

Those Texas Lovers of the infamy decreed on the Shirt in Notting Hill.

What about that?

You hadn’t thought of that, had you?

 

 

 

forgiving the unforgivable

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soldiers responsible for the flags at the memorial for the murdered athletes and coaches of the Israeli Olympic Team

One never knows what people will like. My last blogpost was one I’d saved, because although I thought it was morbid and dark, I thought it’d spur some conversation. Not in the least.

Amy over at Lucy’s Football commented on it, but she’d comment on me cutting and pasting swaths of the phone book. She’s on my team. Getting her into the conversation is sort of a given.

Why did I even go as negative as I did in Five things to harass the Dying? Well, believe it or not, there was method to my madness. I knew I’d be going to the ceremony commemorating the fortieth anniversary of the attacks at the 1972 Munich Olympics that day.

When I was having my first cup of tea that morning, I really pondered what it must’ve been like to be a family member of one of the slain Israeli athletes. Could I really forgive what was done in the name of making a political statement? If the people who perpetrated the crime never apologised or even saw that what they’d done was wrong, then how could forgiveness even be a topic under discussion?

I suppose the forgiveness is part of what’s slowly happening between the Jewish people and the German State. Think about it for a second, will you?

Your people were murdered in the millions in a methodical manner during a war that somehow engulfed most of the planet. Then nearly thirty years later the international community watches as your citizens are brutally murdered in the same country in which those wartime atrocities had taken place. How would you feel?

I know it’s very popular to criticise Israel, especially on the left, and I won’t begin to defend the way the present day Palestinians are being treated. It’s a travesty. Full stop. However, when I look at the way the Israeli citizens are treated in very symbolic ways, I can’t help but feel that there is some sort of prevailing anti-semitism on the world stage.

When the two athletes were killed at 31 Connolly Straße in the Olympic Village in Munich in the early morning hours of 5 September 1972, the world watched as those in control of the Olympics decided that the show must go on. Really? Two athletes had died at the hands of terrorists.

Because of enough of an outcry the Games were halted on that day while the police tried to figure out the best way to handle the situation. It was only much later that night that the remaining members of the team (both athletes and coaches), as well as one West German police officer, were killed by the terrorists.

Well,‘ you ask,’Certainly, they stopped the Games then, didn’t they?

You know where this is going, right? After what was deemed a suitable period of honorable waiting, the Olympics went on. The prevailing wisdom was that stopping the event would be letting the terrorists win. Twelve people had been murdered at the Olympics, and the Israeli government should somehow be grateful that there was a memorial service for those who were killed. I don’t think that’s how they saw it. Am pretty certain they saw it very differently.

I’m prepared for preposterous comments here as a result of this topic. Please be warned that I’ll delete any ridiculousness. If you can’t be civil, go somewhere else. I’ve got little, if any,time for nonsense. Really, I don’t.

Here’s what I wrote about in The Munich Eye after attending the memorial: Flags at half staff for the victims of the 1972 attacks. Notice how respectfully I tried to deal with it without getting overly political. Of course, I’m aware I could be emotional on the topic. I decided my blog was where I’d make my editorial comments.