All Apologies
Thus far, my blogging of my trip to, through, around, and under the surface of Europe has been lacking, if only because I have made no blog entries about the trip. Was I going for minimalism, you ask? Shut up.
In reality, my failure – and there has been exactly one (1) – has had more to do with two insidious forces acting upon my otherwise charmed life: the lack of discipline that comes with travel and the lack of internet access that comes with living in an apartment 20 minutes or so from free wireless. At this point you may have some objections, two objections, to be specific, both of which are valid, but stupid at the same time. Objection one: you blogged New Zealand, and you were traveling then – what’s the deal? Yes, this is true, but when I was traveling in New Zealand I was working and writing and sending copybatches through the internet all the time. All three of these factors made a) having indisputably blogworthy things happen to me, b) having a natural reason and opportunity for blogging and c) having regular access to the internet just sort of happen, like magic. Your second objection: if you have access to free internet, shouldn’t that make it more likely that you’d post blog entries, not less? O-ho, merry prankster, not so fast. I have free internet available 20 minutes away. By subway.
An aside about socioeconomics and societal mores in Germany, particularly in Berlin. For the most part, they don’t exist. There are two items of etiquette I’ve discovered to exist so far: don’t cross the street on a “don’t walk” symbol, even if there are no cars coming, even if the traffic lights are clearly malfunctioning, even if your joke friend Hans has put a crudely drawn don’t walk symbol in lipstick on your bathroom mirror, just to see how long you will stand silently, waiting. Hans has some gender issues, but you probably do too, so lay off. Jesse described this phenomenon as part of a sort of a “why hurry” approach to life shared by the cosmopolitan, enlightened Berliners. In my mind, a fatal flaw to this characterization is that German people are robots.
Another item of etiquette: don’t eat on the subway. Europeans, in general, don’t seem to be so much down with the walking while eating/eating on the go thing as Americans, possibly because literally two of them have jobs, and both of those guys work at a restaurant under the Eiffel tower. That said, you will occasionally see people chowing down on falafel as they walk down the street. But until I caught a glimpse of myself in the window opposite chowing down on some delicious fried rice (3.50) between the Senefelder and Rosa-Luxembourg-Pl. stops on the U2, I had yet to see anyone eat on the subway. It was something of a revelation – I had never before thought of myself as a rulebreaker. It is permitted to carry open bottles of beer around with you all the time, including the subway, however. Especially if you’re prone to angry shouting. In any case, riding the U-Bahn in Berlin is not what one would refer to as a “pleasure sport,” which explains my reluctance to take the 20 minute ride down to the free wireless in the SonyCenter – shaped, no lie, like Mt. Fuji, on purpose, wow – to check internet.
But, of course, because I have free internet theoretically available, I’m loathe – loathe! – to pay for it at any of the many cheap internet cafes near by. Complicating matters is that every week or so – literally three times since we’ve been in country – a random tendril of wireless connectivity will snake its way down through the Soviet-era pavement that encases my apartment in Prenzlauerberg, and we’ll have free internet at the apartment for 20 minutes or so. Free internet in the apartment means no s-bahn ride, no scary germans, and, perhaps most importantly, no pants.
In any case, apologies for the lack of bloggy goodness so far. I’ve got a bunch of stuff written down, which I’ll congeal into a really, really offensive take on the continent when I get back. I’m about to put together a few more blog entries to add to this one, and I’ll put them online soon, certainly before you read them.
Awesome. Until you scroll down (up? I don't know. Look, a kitten!) a bit…
(I apologize for lying to you about the kitten.)
In reality, my failure – and there has been exactly one (1) – has had more to do with two insidious forces acting upon my otherwise charmed life: the lack of discipline that comes with travel and the lack of internet access that comes with living in an apartment 20 minutes or so from free wireless. At this point you may have some objections, two objections, to be specific, both of which are valid, but stupid at the same time. Objection one: you blogged New Zealand, and you were traveling then – what’s the deal? Yes, this is true, but when I was traveling in New Zealand I was working and writing and sending copybatches through the internet all the time. All three of these factors made a) having indisputably blogworthy things happen to me, b) having a natural reason and opportunity for blogging and c) having regular access to the internet just sort of happen, like magic. Your second objection: if you have access to free internet, shouldn’t that make it more likely that you’d post blog entries, not less? O-ho, merry prankster, not so fast. I have free internet available 20 minutes away. By subway.
An aside about socioeconomics and societal mores in Germany, particularly in Berlin. For the most part, they don’t exist. There are two items of etiquette I’ve discovered to exist so far: don’t cross the street on a “don’t walk” symbol, even if there are no cars coming, even if the traffic lights are clearly malfunctioning, even if your joke friend Hans has put a crudely drawn don’t walk symbol in lipstick on your bathroom mirror, just to see how long you will stand silently, waiting. Hans has some gender issues, but you probably do too, so lay off. Jesse described this phenomenon as part of a sort of a “why hurry” approach to life shared by the cosmopolitan, enlightened Berliners. In my mind, a fatal flaw to this characterization is that German people are robots.
Another item of etiquette: don’t eat on the subway. Europeans, in general, don’t seem to be so much down with the walking while eating/eating on the go thing as Americans, possibly because literally two of them have jobs, and both of those guys work at a restaurant under the Eiffel tower. That said, you will occasionally see people chowing down on falafel as they walk down the street. But until I caught a glimpse of myself in the window opposite chowing down on some delicious fried rice (3.50) between the Senefelder and Rosa-Luxembourg-Pl. stops on the U2, I had yet to see anyone eat on the subway. It was something of a revelation – I had never before thought of myself as a rulebreaker. It is permitted to carry open bottles of beer around with you all the time, including the subway, however. Especially if you’re prone to angry shouting. In any case, riding the U-Bahn in Berlin is not what one would refer to as a “pleasure sport,” which explains my reluctance to take the 20 minute ride down to the free wireless in the SonyCenter – shaped, no lie, like Mt. Fuji, on purpose, wow – to check internet.
But, of course, because I have free internet theoretically available, I’m loathe – loathe! – to pay for it at any of the many cheap internet cafes near by. Complicating matters is that every week or so – literally three times since we’ve been in country – a random tendril of wireless connectivity will snake its way down through the Soviet-era pavement that encases my apartment in Prenzlauerberg, and we’ll have free internet at the apartment for 20 minutes or so. Free internet in the apartment means no s-bahn ride, no scary germans, and, perhaps most importantly, no pants.
In any case, apologies for the lack of bloggy goodness so far. I’ve got a bunch of stuff written down, which I’ll congeal into a really, really offensive take on the continent when I get back. I’m about to put together a few more blog entries to add to this one, and I’ll put them online soon, certainly before you read them.
Awesome. Until you scroll down (up? I don't know. Look, a kitten!) a bit…
(I apologize for lying to you about the kitten.)
posted by Jeremy at 10:19 AM
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