interstitial or variety show

Radio is great co-pilot for the long commute, and I did enjoy listening to pure news broadcasts with the occasional searching of the spectrum for a good classic rock song when the Headline News effect, repetition, set in. I was afraid, however, I was always missing something and was never wholly satisfied with the same programme selection of pop. State broadcasters, who also offer the news station and one of the ubiquitous tiger beat stations, feature a channel (DE) that I usually passed over, thinking it was exclusively jazz or Volksmusik (Volxmusik), nothing against either genre, however dithered over it for a while one morning to discover that the bulk of the daytime line-up is brilliant and exactly the sort of stream-of-consciousness narrative on the news and cultural items that I was looking for. The reporting is more in depth and based on expert interviews and there’s a real mix of talk and interstitial (dazwischenliegend) music. “We’ll be discussing Obama’s embarrassing stage-whisper to Dmitri Medvedjev, which he will transmit to his once-and-future president, and then the continuing public-service sector strikes, but first we have two more hot mics for you: Johnny and June Carter-Cash performing their number Jackson.” That’s fantastic and the whole day’s stories are punctuated like that--with a clever soundtrack.

cordon sanitaire or the moon of endor

While Poland was hosting the new German president on his first official state visit, to reaffirm the ties of the two neighbouring countries, Poland was declared, again, the unwilling football of détente and appeasement. I am sure a great deal of diplomacy is carried out in the footlights, in hushed tones and without attendant-minders, like this Cold War melodrama. Certainly, there is an element of smug fatalism, but it seems as if old rivalries are drawing the same lines in the sand and perhaps the same promises written on water. Starting with the rise of Bolshevik governments out of the chaos of World War I, America sought to staunch the spread of the Communist revolution, but it was not until the victors picked over the wreckage of the World War II, that the US policy of containment became such a formalized game.

Crying foul at the “subversion” of free peoples by Soviet tyranny and without deference to Poland’s history of being swapped, the first bargaining-chip, the country was overlooked again, but despite the clash of the ideologues enveloping it, Poland—like many of the other Eastern Bloc, buffer states—did manage to overcome adversity and neglect to thrive. It is probably not more (but also not less) than an uncomfortable and sad reality to defer change or meaningful negotiations (in as much as such promises are worth) until after a campaign, as was overheard in the candid exchange between the US and Russia regarding Western encroachment into Russia’s domain—casting into question the fumble over the planned deflector shield, to protect Europe from Middle East aggression, to be based in Poland (and in the neighbouring Czech Republic). There is a certain quid pro quo detachment inherent in these dealings, which probably means that tensions and disagreement over Syria and Iran are being broached in the same way, and that’s likely the bigger embarrassment behind shelving the focus on this one slip.

österlichen brauchtum or thanks easter bunny, bock, bock!

Generally, we are pretty good about decorating for the season but this year, for Easter, we are being a bit delinquent. In the past, we’ve gotten these miraculous twigs, from whose boughs we hung papier-mâché Easter eggs to make an Osterbaum (which is something of a mixed metaphor). I call them magic, since the sticks, when kept in water for a few weeks, will suddenly transform from dead reeds into an explosion of yellow flowers, just in time for Easter Sunday. I think that’s pretty keen, and I tried to get some from the florist this year, too, earlier last week. I had noticed a few bundles outside the shop, but when I went back the next day, none were left. I poked around inside but realized, when I was going to ask where I might find them, I don’t know the proper name for such blooming sticks and also wasn’t sure how to pantomime my question. There is still time to be all decked out.

coffee and tv or tea and sympathy

A very clever Dutch entrepreneur, frustrated with the cavalier, disposable attitude of many consumers but also sensitive to the hardships that make it usually easier to replace an item rather than repair it, is running a chain of cafes in Amsterdam (with more planned throughout the Netherlands) that brings together darners, tinkerers and fixers to give broken goods a second, fighting chance. Like knitting groups and crafting clubs, this new café culture attracts like-minded Do-It-Yourselfers and offers a workshop where they can meet, over a coffee, to repair gadgets, mend clothing, refinish furniture and educate themselves about how stuff works. This is a great idea, and I hope the founder’s continued success is contagious.

olive tree, very pretty or gartenschlau

With the beginning of Spring, it is nearly warm enough, aside from some frosty mornings, to put some of the plants back on the balcony. Indoors real estate (with a view and a share of the sun) came at a premium and a lot of the houseplants were crowded and vying for space. I have had this ornamental olive tree for years and it has refused to grow much, since with the onset of Winter, it would drop all of its leaves and go dormant, which I figured was normal, especially in German climes, because a few tentacles of leaves would come back every year and continued to branch out over the summer.

It was always a little pathetic, however, since it never was again full and bushy and I would trim back the decidedly dead twigs and thread the one or two strands of leaves around, like a comb-over on a balding man. I keep trying with this one and I refuse to give up. It has sprouted a single leafing branch late this Winter again, however, this time, in revolt to whatever I am doing wrong, it seems to have evolved, mutated with these big wanky leaves that don’t appear to be regular olive leaves at all, which ought to be narrower and more cactus-like.

Maybe it’s some parasitic plant, I thought, at first, but it seems to be part of the olive tree. If this is the case, I never knew that a plant’s frustration could lead to adaptation. Here are some proper olive trees in temperate Rome, growing around the Triumphal Arch of Constantine, just behind the Colosseum.

vor ort, for you, die II. staffel

The debate over continuing financial assistance for former East German stabilization and development, sparked by the election season rhetoric of some municipal hopefuls, has now, fuelled by bidden commentary, broadened from a suggestion, that could have had xenophobic overtones, to a discussion about power of the purse and the sturdiness of statistics (DE). I am not sure how to translate the meaning of “poor-mouthing.” Unlike private banking institutions in Germany, like Deutsche Bank or Commerzbank, savings and loan banks (Sparkassen) are supported and partially owned by their host communities.  Traditionally the profits of the Sparkassen have either been reabsorbed into the network in order to promote more growth and investment, locally, or have underwritten local charity initiatives, aside from shoring up capital, which can be problematic in an environment of tight credit, against expanding requirements for reserves.

Though not without resistance and fear of undue influence (benefit going not to the public but the politician), savings banks in a few of the same communities that were calling for the end to solidarity payments have agreed to share a part of the some 4,7 billion € made nation-wide last year in profit with the cities. Money is a very emotional issue and can be set on edge even more by accusing one group, making an otherness, of contributing to one’s own insolvency. Annually, the Sparkassen turnover for North Rhine-Westphalia is over 200 million €, which is, incidentally, the amount that the communities of the Ruhrgebiet have contributed to the Solidarity Pact fund. The pledge for financial assistance cannot be a matter that individual communities can take leave of at will and probably should not be ended prematurely, since wealth redistributed (within the same country, too) is not squandered, but neither should the social support of charitable organizations be beholden to political will, because even local-politics is not always in civic interest.

socks cousteau

Vacationing in London several years ago, we each got a pair of posh socks from Harrods’ as keep-sakes, perhaps lucky socks.

I try to wear mine gingerly but they’ve held up quite well. Inside-out (for washing—although I am not about the rationale behind the technique) one can see that each individual colour panel is stitched separately and the loose threads flay like some exotic sea-slug. Laundry can be quite an adventure of discovery, too.