I just spoke with Mrs. TBF a few minutes ago, and she's doing well in Shanghai. She flew there from Singapore this morning, and told me that Singapore Airlines served up dim sum for breakfast. How cool is that?
I forgot to mention that Mrs. TBF cleared the wait list which means that she'll be coming home on Friday morning instead of Saturday morning - which is also very cool.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
The Snowtime Trilogy is complete...
I had the third and final installment of the Snowtime Specials in the parking lot of Johannes Hakkaart's (that's what my receipt says) McDonalds in Füllinsdorf this afternoon while listening to the CD Mütter by Rammstein (ahhhhhhh...there's nothing like listening to some relaxing music while enjoying good healthy food!). Now that I think about it, I've probably eaten at McDonalds in the last three weeks almost as much as I have in the previous four years combined.
Anyway, this week's special is the Fondue Special. It's basically a Quarter Pounder with Cheese with a bunch of fondue cheese glopped on top and a special sauce which kind of tasted like yellow mustard. The bun was kind of like a sourdough bun, but I couldn't really pin down what it was exactly.
The verdict???? Damn good! Although, it didn't match the knee-buckling euphoria of the Rösti special. So, I'd have to rate them as follows: (1) Rösti Special (2) Fondue Special (3) Triple Cheese Special.
Also, I have to point out how expensive McDonalds is in Switzerland. Since my stomach was really growling while running errands today, I decided to go "Large" on my Menu (Value Meal). The cost??? 13.90 Swiss Francs which comes out to about $12.00 U.S.!!!! For a value meal!!!!! My receipt says: WIR FREUEN UNS AUF IHREN NÄCHSTEN BESUCH (We look forward to your next visit). Twelve bucks for a Value Meal??? At those prices, I'd certainly hope so!
Anyway, this week's special is the Fondue Special. It's basically a Quarter Pounder with Cheese with a bunch of fondue cheese glopped on top and a special sauce which kind of tasted like yellow mustard. The bun was kind of like a sourdough bun, but I couldn't really pin down what it was exactly.
The verdict???? Damn good! Although, it didn't match the knee-buckling euphoria of the Rösti special. So, I'd have to rate them as follows: (1) Rösti Special (2) Fondue Special (3) Triple Cheese Special.
Also, I have to point out how expensive McDonalds is in Switzerland. Since my stomach was really growling while running errands today, I decided to go "Large" on my Menu (Value Meal). The cost??? 13.90 Swiss Francs which comes out to about $12.00 U.S.!!!! For a value meal!!!!! My receipt says: WIR FREUEN UNS AUF IHREN NÄCHSTEN BESUCH (We look forward to your next visit). Twelve bucks for a Value Meal??? At those prices, I'd certainly hope so!
Sunday, March 06, 2005
O sole mio...
I just spoke with Mrs. TBF. She's at Zürich Airport waiting for her flight to Singapore. On Tuesday morning she'll head to Shanghai, and then it's back to Switzerland either on Friday or Saturday. She's waitlisted for the Thursday night flight back to Zürich, but she's currently scheduled for the Friday night flight. I really hope she gets on that Thursday night flight.
In the meantime, it's just me, Dominique, and King. Mrs. TBF and I just bought a new flatscreen TV for our bedroom. So, I think I'll probably just go to bed early while Mrs. TBF's in Asia and watch TV or read a book.
In the meantime, it's just me, Dominique, and King. Mrs. TBF and I just bought a new flatscreen TV for our bedroom. So, I think I'll probably just go to bed early while Mrs. TBF's in Asia and watch TV or read a book.
A little bit of Finland...in Switzerland.
Mrs. TBF and I ran into two Finns yesterday while doing a little shopping. First, we ran into a Finnish saleslady at Mobel Pfister while we were buying some towels for our guest bathroom. As I handed the lady my credit card to pay for the towels, she noticed my last name and immediately began speaking Finnish with me. As it turns out, she came to Switzerland 30+ years ago to study German for a year, met a Finnish man, they were married, and they never left. We spoke for a few minutes, she told me that there is a Swiss/Finnish Society in Basel with about 400 members and that there are about 10,000 Finns in Switzerland - imagine that!
After stopping at home to bring Dominique out to do her business, we headed out to a furniture store called Getzman to look for a new dining room table and chairs. The salesman who helped us has a Swiss father and a Finnish mother. I spoke to him in Finnish, Jo Ann spoke to him in English, and he spoke to us in a combination of Finnish, English, and German. It was a pretty interesting hour or so. His spoken Finnish wasn't great, but I could tell that he understood just about everything I said.
So, for me it was a rare opportunity to get in some Finnish language practice. I feel that my Finnish speaking skills have deteriorated somewhat while living in Switzerland, and I'm not happy about it. Pretty much all the practice I get is talking to my dad for about five minutes on the phone every week or so (he's not much of a phone talker), talking to myself, and occasionally speaking with a local Finnish friend - Anne (although we usually speak in English if Mrs. TBF is there).
The saleslady from Mobel Pfister gave me her home phone number so I could call her for some info about the Swiss/Finnish Society. Maybe I should give her a call and become a member of the society so that I could speak Finnish a little more often.
Mrs. TBF and I are thinking of beginning French lessons. English...German conversation classes, Finnish and French? How much info can one cram into their brain???
After stopping at home to bring Dominique out to do her business, we headed out to a furniture store called Getzman to look for a new dining room table and chairs. The salesman who helped us has a Swiss father and a Finnish mother. I spoke to him in Finnish, Jo Ann spoke to him in English, and he spoke to us in a combination of Finnish, English, and German. It was a pretty interesting hour or so. His spoken Finnish wasn't great, but I could tell that he understood just about everything I said.
So, for me it was a rare opportunity to get in some Finnish language practice. I feel that my Finnish speaking skills have deteriorated somewhat while living in Switzerland, and I'm not happy about it. Pretty much all the practice I get is talking to my dad for about five minutes on the phone every week or so (he's not much of a phone talker), talking to myself, and occasionally speaking with a local Finnish friend - Anne (although we usually speak in English if Mrs. TBF is there).
The saleslady from Mobel Pfister gave me her home phone number so I could call her for some info about the Swiss/Finnish Society. Maybe I should give her a call and become a member of the society so that I could speak Finnish a little more often.
Mrs. TBF and I are thinking of beginning French lessons. English...German conversation classes, Finnish and French? How much info can one cram into their brain???
Saturday, March 05, 2005
I'm supposed to be in Klosters...but I'm not.
I was supposed to go to Klosters this weekend with a bunch of buddies for a weekend ski trip, but I had to cancel out at the last minute. Our suddenly very old dog has not been doing too well, and I figured it wasn't fair to Mrs. TBF to have to handle things on her own while I was off having fun.
Dominique has been kind of going downhill for the past two months. I brought her into the vet's office last week for blood and urine tests, and all the preliminary results were pretty normal. The problem is - her behavior hasn't been very normal.
For the past two weeks, she's been very hyper at night, drinking water like crazy, having to go out for a pee just about every hour during the evening, etc. When I brought her for the blood test, she was about 2 kilos lighter than the last time I weighed her. All of these symptoms pointed to thyroid over-medication (she's taken medicine for hypo-thyroidism for several years), so I just reduced the medication on my own while we waited for the thyroid blood test results. Reducing the medicine helped a lot, but the blood test ended up showing that her thyroid level was LOW. The doctor basically told me that since reducing the medicine helped, we should just ignore the test results and continue with the lower dosage of medicine. It got pretty bad last week. One night it was so bad that we started talking about the fact that it might be time to put her down.
I think it's just a matter of her being almost fourteen years old, and her body's just beginning to break down. She has cataracts, arthritis, and takes three different types of medicine which seem to help her a lot. She continues to poop and pee normally (although sometimes IN the house), she still has a ravenous appetite, and the tail still wags quite often. So, she still has some living left to do. But, instead of talking about her twilight years - I think it's more like she's now living in her twilight months.
It's all just incredibly sad, and I can't even write this without getting emotional about it. Mrs. TBF and I are just going to try to make the most of every day we have with her, and I'm going to try to not get too mad at "our baby" for having the occasional accident in the house...
Dominique has been kind of going downhill for the past two months. I brought her into the vet's office last week for blood and urine tests, and all the preliminary results were pretty normal. The problem is - her behavior hasn't been very normal.
For the past two weeks, she's been very hyper at night, drinking water like crazy, having to go out for a pee just about every hour during the evening, etc. When I brought her for the blood test, she was about 2 kilos lighter than the last time I weighed her. All of these symptoms pointed to thyroid over-medication (she's taken medicine for hypo-thyroidism for several years), so I just reduced the medication on my own while we waited for the thyroid blood test results. Reducing the medicine helped a lot, but the blood test ended up showing that her thyroid level was LOW. The doctor basically told me that since reducing the medicine helped, we should just ignore the test results and continue with the lower dosage of medicine. It got pretty bad last week. One night it was so bad that we started talking about the fact that it might be time to put her down.
I think it's just a matter of her being almost fourteen years old, and her body's just beginning to break down. She has cataracts, arthritis, and takes three different types of medicine which seem to help her a lot. She continues to poop and pee normally (although sometimes IN the house), she still has a ravenous appetite, and the tail still wags quite often. So, she still has some living left to do. But, instead of talking about her twilight years - I think it's more like she's now living in her twilight months.
It's all just incredibly sad, and I can't even write this without getting emotional about it. Mrs. TBF and I are just going to try to make the most of every day we have with her, and I'm going to try to not get too mad at "our baby" for having the occasional accident in the house...
Friday, March 04, 2005
More of the "F" word...
What are usually the first words out of one's mouth every morning? Good morning...coffee...gotta peepee...? Those might be the words of choice for most people, but usually the first words uttered out of The Big Finn's mouth every morning are either "Fu**ing Primus" or "Fu**ing Migros"!!!
So far, I have very little to complain about as it pertains to our new apartment. I like the layout, the location, the proximity to grocery stores and downtown Basel, etc., etc. Overall, I'd have to say that we made a good decision to move to this place. One of the benefits - proximity to grocery stores - also brings up one of the problems.
We live right next door to a Migros grocery store. Migros, along with Coop, is one of the two major grocery chains in Switzerland. Mrs. TBF and I overwhelmingly favor Coop, but it is convenient having the Migros next door in case we run out of something and need it in a hurry. As a matter of fact, you can take the elevator down into our parking garage, walk out of our parking garage door, and walk right into the Migros parking garage without ever going outside. This gives you an idea of how close the Migros is to our apartment.
Not only is there a Migros next to our building, but there is also a company called Primus located right next door to the Migros. So if you look out of our bedroom window, you can see both the Migros loading dock and the Primus loading dock (the Swiss apparently do not believe in location, location, location when building houses). Here's the problem...
Anywhere from 4:30 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. I begin hearing familiar sounds from my past. As most of you may know, I was an account manager for various transportation companies during my fifteen or so working years. These sounds are the unmistakeable sounds of pallet-jacks and fork lifts loading pallets onto a trailer. After these noises subside, then comes the unique sound of a diesel engine starting, and then the sound of a truck driving off. When I hear these sounds, I moan out either "...fu**ing Migros" or "...fu**ing Primus." Up until this morning I was never quite sure which one it was. However, this morning, thanks to Dominique, I witnessed the culprits in action.
This morning, at 4:50 a.m., Dominique jumped out of bed which pretty much gives you about a two-minute window to get her outside for a pee (give her a break...she's old). I threw on some clothes, brought her up the stairs to the rooftop garden area, and she took care of business. As I rubbed the little balls of sleep from my eyes, I noticed light and motion coming from below. Lo and behold, I saw three Primus employees loading a delivery truck at 4:55 a.m.!!! "FU*KING PRIMUS!!!!!!!!"
Now the question becomes whether or not I go about the arduous task of filing a formal complaint (how Swiss of me!). I'm pretty sure they're not allowed to make noise until 7:00 a.m. To their credit, it did seem like the guys were trying to be quiet. But, it's one of those situations where you're trying to be really quiet, and then you end up making more noise than if you just moved about normally.
Yup, I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I guess I can take on Primus and Migros which will leave me with only one more interrupter of my precious R.E.M. sleep.
A couple of Saturday nights ago, I was reveling in the fact that there was no way Primus and Migros would be waking me up early on a Sunday morning. So, I went to bed looking forward to hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep. Before I knew it, it was 9:30 a.m. on Sunday morning (I think I went to bed at 2:30 a.m.), and I realized that something loud had woken me up. When I finally got my wits about me, I realized what had woken me up - "FU*KING CHURCH BELLS!!!!!"
So far, I have very little to complain about as it pertains to our new apartment. I like the layout, the location, the proximity to grocery stores and downtown Basel, etc., etc. Overall, I'd have to say that we made a good decision to move to this place. One of the benefits - proximity to grocery stores - also brings up one of the problems.
We live right next door to a Migros grocery store. Migros, along with Coop, is one of the two major grocery chains in Switzerland. Mrs. TBF and I overwhelmingly favor Coop, but it is convenient having the Migros next door in case we run out of something and need it in a hurry. As a matter of fact, you can take the elevator down into our parking garage, walk out of our parking garage door, and walk right into the Migros parking garage without ever going outside. This gives you an idea of how close the Migros is to our apartment.
Not only is there a Migros next to our building, but there is also a company called Primus located right next door to the Migros. So if you look out of our bedroom window, you can see both the Migros loading dock and the Primus loading dock (the Swiss apparently do not believe in location, location, location when building houses). Here's the problem...
Anywhere from 4:30 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. I begin hearing familiar sounds from my past. As most of you may know, I was an account manager for various transportation companies during my fifteen or so working years. These sounds are the unmistakeable sounds of pallet-jacks and fork lifts loading pallets onto a trailer. After these noises subside, then comes the unique sound of a diesel engine starting, and then the sound of a truck driving off. When I hear these sounds, I moan out either "...fu**ing Migros" or "...fu**ing Primus." Up until this morning I was never quite sure which one it was. However, this morning, thanks to Dominique, I witnessed the culprits in action.
This morning, at 4:50 a.m., Dominique jumped out of bed which pretty much gives you about a two-minute window to get her outside for a pee (give her a break...she's old). I threw on some clothes, brought her up the stairs to the rooftop garden area, and she took care of business. As I rubbed the little balls of sleep from my eyes, I noticed light and motion coming from below. Lo and behold, I saw three Primus employees loading a delivery truck at 4:55 a.m.!!! "FU*KING PRIMUS!!!!!!!!"
Now the question becomes whether or not I go about the arduous task of filing a formal complaint (how Swiss of me!). I'm pretty sure they're not allowed to make noise until 7:00 a.m. To their credit, it did seem like the guys were trying to be quiet. But, it's one of those situations where you're trying to be really quiet, and then you end up making more noise than if you just moved about normally.
Yup, I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I guess I can take on Primus and Migros which will leave me with only one more interrupter of my precious R.E.M. sleep.
A couple of Saturday nights ago, I was reveling in the fact that there was no way Primus and Migros would be waking me up early on a Sunday morning. So, I went to bed looking forward to hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep. Before I knew it, it was 9:30 a.m. on Sunday morning (I think I went to bed at 2:30 a.m.), and I realized that something loud had woken me up. When I finally got my wits about me, I realized what had woken me up - "FU*KING CHURCH BELLS!!!!!"
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Snowtime!!!
If you're a regular reader of my blog, you'll know that a few days ago I made a rare stop at a local McDonalds and sampled the Rösti Special - a culinary masterpiece! It's one of three Snowtime! specials that McDonalds of Switzerland is currently offering.
Today, the autopilot on my car suddenly took me against my will into the Münchenstein McDonalds McDrive, and I was forced to order this week's Snowtime! special - the Triple Cheese. By the way, I love going through the McDrive in Switzerland. I order in German, but I say the names of the things (Big Mac, cheeseburger, etc.) with an American accent instead of a Swiss accent which results in massive confusion for the order taker. I'll say: Ich möchte ein Big Mac. And then I'll hear the McEmployee say something like: "BEEEK MOCK??"
Getting back to the Triple Cheese ("TREEEPIL CHEEESS?)...
As the name implies, the Triple Cheese is a burger with three types of cheese, plus some kind of gooey fondue sauce on a cheesy-baked bun. The verdict? It was good, but not even in the same league as the McRösti.
Next week's special is the "Fondue Special". I think I'll have to give it a try. Then, the Rösti Special comes back for an encore performance from March 14th - 20th. Mrs. TBF's mom arrives from Chicago on March 17th. I can think of no better jet-lag food than the Rösti Special small menu (Value Meal) for my Schwiegermutter. I guess it's a good thing I began stocking up on the prune juice today.
Today, the autopilot on my car suddenly took me against my will into the Münchenstein McDonalds McDrive, and I was forced to order this week's Snowtime! special - the Triple Cheese. By the way, I love going through the McDrive in Switzerland. I order in German, but I say the names of the things (Big Mac, cheeseburger, etc.) with an American accent instead of a Swiss accent which results in massive confusion for the order taker. I'll say: Ich möchte ein Big Mac. And then I'll hear the McEmployee say something like: "BEEEK MOCK??"
Getting back to the Triple Cheese ("TREEEPIL CHEEESS?)...
As the name implies, the Triple Cheese is a burger with three types of cheese, plus some kind of gooey fondue sauce on a cheesy-baked bun. The verdict? It was good, but not even in the same league as the McRösti.
Next week's special is the "Fondue Special". I think I'll have to give it a try. Then, the Rösti Special comes back for an encore performance from March 14th - 20th. Mrs. TBF's mom arrives from Chicago on March 17th. I can think of no better jet-lag food than the Rösti Special small menu (Value Meal) for my Schwiegermutter. I guess it's a good thing I began stocking up on the prune juice today.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Now I've seen just about everything! But, I haven't tasted it...yet.
I stopped at our local Coop this afternoon to pick up a few groceries, and something really unusual caught my eye while I was looking for prune juice (...it's not for me. Mrs. TBF's mom is coming to visit in a couple of weeks, and Hell hath no fury like Jo without her prune juice!). Actually, it's something I can't even begin to imagine could posess any sort of commercial potential. What is it you ask? Why it's....SAUERKRAUT JUICE. I am not kidding, I saw sauerkraut juice at the grocery store today. I picked it up, I held it in my hand, I considered buying it, and I chickened out. But fret not...I'm sure I'll be buying it soon. Now that I know it exists, it's something I just must try. And when I do - I'll be sure to let you know how it tastes. You know?? All this talk about sauerkraut reminds me of one of my famous brain-freezes from a few years ago.
Shortly after moving to Switzerland, I decided one day that I was going to make some sausages and sauerkraut for dinner. At the time, I could barely count to ten in German and going to the grocery store to look for items I had never bought before always brought on a bit of anxiety because I feared having to ask somebody where a particular item was. It would usually involve me belching out a simple question in what I thought was German but in actuality was more like a cross between Esperanto and one of those tribal African languages with the popping/clicking sounds. Plus, nine times out of ten, the store employee I'd be speaking to was probably French (most of the grocery store employees are), and they wouldn't have the slightest idea what I was saying. So, I walked around Coop for a couple of minutes trying to find sauerkraut without any success. Then, I figured I'd have to actually ask somebody where it was. When I began to rehearse the question in German in my head, I suddenly realized that I had no idea how to say sauerkraut in German. I actually looked in my little German pocket dictionary and I couldn't find it in the English section. This was unbelievable!!!! How could something so German not be in the German dictionary??? Right when I was about to give up, I simultaneously realized that Sauerkraut IS German (DUH!) and I looked up to see it on the shelf in the cooler directly in front of me at eye level. I grabbed a couple of bags, paid for my stuff, and slinked out of the store in disgrace.
So, let's fast-forward about 4½ years. Not only do I know that Sauerkraut is a German word, but I also know that Sauerkraut Saft means sauerkraut juice, it exists, and I'm probably going to be trying it for the first time in the very near future.
Shortly after moving to Switzerland, I decided one day that I was going to make some sausages and sauerkraut for dinner. At the time, I could barely count to ten in German and going to the grocery store to look for items I had never bought before always brought on a bit of anxiety because I feared having to ask somebody where a particular item was. It would usually involve me belching out a simple question in what I thought was German but in actuality was more like a cross between Esperanto and one of those tribal African languages with the popping/clicking sounds. Plus, nine times out of ten, the store employee I'd be speaking to was probably French (most of the grocery store employees are), and they wouldn't have the slightest idea what I was saying. So, I walked around Coop for a couple of minutes trying to find sauerkraut without any success. Then, I figured I'd have to actually ask somebody where it was. When I began to rehearse the question in German in my head, I suddenly realized that I had no idea how to say sauerkraut in German. I actually looked in my little German pocket dictionary and I couldn't find it in the English section. This was unbelievable!!!! How could something so German not be in the German dictionary??? Right when I was about to give up, I simultaneously realized that Sauerkraut IS German (DUH!) and I looked up to see it on the shelf in the cooler directly in front of me at eye level. I grabbed a couple of bags, paid for my stuff, and slinked out of the store in disgrace.
So, let's fast-forward about 4½ years. Not only do I know that Sauerkraut is a German word, but I also know that Sauerkraut Saft means sauerkraut juice, it exists, and I'm probably going to be trying it for the first time in the very near future.
Hey...let's talk some shit.
Here's Dominique pooping on her rooftop "litter box" on February 27, 2005.
One of the best features of our new apartment is that the entire rooftop is ours, and ours only. Most of the rooftop is tiled and landscaped, but a fairly large portion of it is planted in a natural, prairie-style planting. The previous owners mentioned to me that it was just a "...bunch of weeds", so I figured that I would eventually just landscape it myself at some point. One thing I didn't really consider was this area's potential as a lazy way of taking Dominique out for her rather frequent need to relieve herself (afterall, she is almost fourteen years old). We were taking her down in the elevator, down the front steps, and over to a grassy knoll about thirty meters away from the front door of our building. Most of the time, Dominique wouldn't make it to the grassy knoll, and she would end up doing her business on the rather ornately grooved tiles in front of our building. This would result in me either getting out surgical tools to remove her dookie from the grooves....or just leave it and pretend it was somebody else's dog. I think you can figure out which option I chose.
Then one day, our neighbor Suzanne asked why we didn't just bring her up to the roof to do her business. It was like being hit on the head with Duh!-hammer. Since those brilliant words came out of Suzanne's mouth, I'd have to estimate that 90% of Dominique's peepeeing and poopooing has taken place in the rooftop "nature preserve." And be not concerned, because I pick up after our baby every time she drops one of her little land mines. I just grab a bunch of poo-bags from the Robidog bin when I walk by one, and I keep them in good supply next to the door that leads out to the roof.
I have to admit that it's so convenient that this past Friday night I actually took a pee up there myself while I was waiting for Dominique to finish. I'd be willing to bet that Suzanne is now regretting having given me the idea!
Sunday, February 27, 2005
A Mrs. TBF milestone...
I forgot to mention, Mrs. TBF hit her goal weight at her weigh-in yesterday. She has lost 30 pounds/13.6 kilos since September 1, 2004. She looks great!!! I can't stop slapping that taut po whenever she walks by me.
Ich liebe es...
That's German for "I'm lovin' it!", and that's definitely what I'm feeling.
It's probably the snowiest day in Basel since we moved here, and on my way to pick up Rammy and Mrs. TBF from the Münchenstein Tennis Center I made a quick (and rare) stop at the local McDonalds.
As I pulled into the McDrive, I noticed that they were promoting today's special - the Rösti Special. What is the Rösti Special you ask? Well, it's an intoxicating combination of an all-beef patty, with tons of cheese, a Rösti (the Swiss version of hash browns) patty, and a couple of strips of bacon on an fried onion bun. It was unbelievably good. Perhaps I'll have to stop at Mickey Ds later in the week to sample another daily special.
It's probably the snowiest day in Basel since we moved here, and on my way to pick up Rammy and Mrs. TBF from the Münchenstein Tennis Center I made a quick (and rare) stop at the local McDonalds.
As I pulled into the McDrive, I noticed that they were promoting today's special - the Rösti Special. What is the Rösti Special you ask? Well, it's an intoxicating combination of an all-beef patty, with tons of cheese, a Rösti (the Swiss version of hash browns) patty, and a couple of strips of bacon on an fried onion bun. It was unbelievably good. Perhaps I'll have to stop at Mickey Ds later in the week to sample another daily special.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Take a chance...
...you stupid ho!. Those are the rather catchy lyrics from Gwen Stefani's song "What You Waiting For." And, imagine my shock and dismay when I discovered this past weekend that the various SKY video channels that have the video in heavy rotation have made the rather silly editorial decision to bleep out the word - HO.
For those of you who aren't as "street" as me (oh...and by the way...when did it become pronounced "SHTREET"? Why has "SHT" become an accepted American prounounciation of every word that begins with an "ST"? Has everybody suddenly turned German on me???), ho is short for whore. Why has ho/whore suddenly become offensive to people? My guess is that a group of rather sensitive high-class prostitutes have lobbied against the music video channels to get them to bleep out this term that they find offensive - as if it somehow undermines the professionalism they have worked so long and hard (I'm sorry if you found that offensive) to achieve. I think people are just becoming too gosh-danged sensitive. All of this reminds me of some words or wisdom from one of my former work colleagues - David L. (I'm not sure if he'd want me to use his last name).
I worked with Dave for several years at my last company. Over the years I was amused by the fact that he was a devout Christian, went to church every Sunday, and...he swore like a truck driver (which was fitting because we were account managers for a trucking company). One day, I asked Dave how he justified peppering his vernacular with the word FUCK (...sorry if I've offended you) while attempting to adhere to the tenets of Christianity. Here was his response: "It doesn't say you can't say FUCK in the Bible!" Those words of wisdom have stuck with me through the years, and I've occasionally felt the need to repeat them in order to knock the easily-offended off of their pulpits. Their response is always the same: "Well...I find it offensive." And my response is: "Who cares?" And getting back to Gwen Stefani, my guess is that a handful people have called in to complain about the use of the word ho in her video, and they've managed to create a new swear word which is probably used a zillion times a day by English speaking people throughout the world.
I wonder if they're going to have to bleep out Santa Claus next Christmas. Bleep, bleep, bleep...Merry Christmas. There are going to be an awful lot of angry rednecks when they have to start calling them dad-burned things bleep-downs. It looks like Smith and Hawken have already buckled to the pressure by changing the long-used garden hoe to "precision weeder."
It's at times like these that I have to remember Dave's words of wisdom. It doesn't say you can't say ho in the Bible. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it!
For those of you who aren't as "street" as me (oh...and by the way...when did it become pronounced "SHTREET"? Why has "SHT" become an accepted American prounounciation of every word that begins with an "ST"? Has everybody suddenly turned German on me???), ho is short for whore. Why has ho/whore suddenly become offensive to people? My guess is that a group of rather sensitive high-class prostitutes have lobbied against the music video channels to get them to bleep out this term that they find offensive - as if it somehow undermines the professionalism they have worked so long and hard (I'm sorry if you found that offensive) to achieve. I think people are just becoming too gosh-danged sensitive. All of this reminds me of some words or wisdom from one of my former work colleagues - David L. (I'm not sure if he'd want me to use his last name).
I worked with Dave for several years at my last company. Over the years I was amused by the fact that he was a devout Christian, went to church every Sunday, and...he swore like a truck driver (which was fitting because we were account managers for a trucking company). One day, I asked Dave how he justified peppering his vernacular with the word FUCK (...sorry if I've offended you) while attempting to adhere to the tenets of Christianity. Here was his response: "It doesn't say you can't say FUCK in the Bible!" Those words of wisdom have stuck with me through the years, and I've occasionally felt the need to repeat them in order to knock the easily-offended off of their pulpits. Their response is always the same: "Well...I find it offensive." And my response is: "Who cares?" And getting back to Gwen Stefani, my guess is that a handful people have called in to complain about the use of the word ho in her video, and they've managed to create a new swear word which is probably used a zillion times a day by English speaking people throughout the world.
I wonder if they're going to have to bleep out Santa Claus next Christmas. Bleep, bleep, bleep...Merry Christmas. There are going to be an awful lot of angry rednecks when they have to start calling them dad-burned things bleep-downs. It looks like Smith and Hawken have already buckled to the pressure by changing the long-used garden hoe to "precision weeder."
It's at times like these that I have to remember Dave's words of wisdom. It doesn't say you can't say ho in the Bible. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it!
Friday, February 18, 2005
King has gone "High-Tech"!!!
As I mentioned earlier this week, I went to Qualipet to buy some pet supplies. Among the things I bought was a "Kitty High-Tech Mouse" for King made by a German company called Karlie. One of things I really enjoy about buying things in Europe is that the back of the package usually has instructions/information translated into several languages. Now, mind you, this is not really a "high-tech" piece of equipment as the manufacturer implies. All it really is is a small fishing rod with a catnip stuffed mouse at the end of the line that squeeks when you bounce it off the floor. However, this fact has not deterred the good people at Karlie from feeling the need to list the highlights of their product in seven languages - German, English, French, Dutch, Spanish, Italian, and Russian. Here is the English translation which I found rather amusing:
Here comes the high-tech mouse!
Sensational:
-Just the slightest contact and the cat hears the "real sound of mice" - an integrated chip makes this possible and the cat cannot tell the difference between this sound and the "original" sound of mice.
-With new safety mouse, which means to say with soft felt eyes, ears and tail, no sharp corners [Oh,oh...do I sense a previous manufacturing flaw? Perhaps the eyes, ears, and tail were previously made of...glass and barbed wire?]
-With the scent of catnip (cat mint)
-Active toy to promote instinct and concentration. [I must point out that it did pretty much drive King into a frenzy. So, instinct yes. Concentration? Let's not push it.]
-Many exciting hours [huh?] of play between animal and people.
-Immediately ready to use [Liars!!! There was some assembly required!]
-Do not leave the animal to play on its own. Do not eat. [Is this last comment directed toward the "animal" or the "people"?]
Here comes the high-tech mouse!
Sensational:
-Just the slightest contact and the cat hears the "real sound of mice" - an integrated chip makes this possible and the cat cannot tell the difference between this sound and the "original" sound of mice.
-With new safety mouse, which means to say with soft felt eyes, ears and tail, no sharp corners [Oh,oh...do I sense a previous manufacturing flaw? Perhaps the eyes, ears, and tail were previously made of...glass and barbed wire?]
-With the scent of catnip (cat mint)
-Active toy to promote instinct and concentration. [I must point out that it did pretty much drive King into a frenzy. So, instinct yes. Concentration? Let's not push it.]
-Many exciting hours [huh?] of play between animal and people.
-Immediately ready to use [Liars!!! There was some assembly required!]
-Do not leave the animal to play on its own. Do not eat. [Is this last comment directed toward the "animal" or the "people"?]
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
This fall...I'll be having it MY WAY!!!
BIG NEWS!!!! BURGER KING IS COMING TO BASEL THIS FALL!!!! I can smell that flame-broiled smell wafting over the Bahnhofplatz already!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
What a difference four years makes...
I did one of my classic Swiss outings this morning/afternoon - Qualipet, Media Markt, and IKEA. However, before I went to the BIG THREE, I had to stop off at the Motorfahrzeugkontrolle (or, MFK) to change our address on our drivers licenses.
Four years ago, when I was in the process of changing from our Illinois license plates to Swiss plates, the MFK (I began substituting something else for the "M" and "F") was the bane of my existence. It was incredibly disorganized, most people refused to speak to me in English (and my German skills were practically non-existent), and worst of all: nobody would provide me with a list of all the things I needed in order to get my Swiss plates. It was absolutely one of the most frustrating experiences of my life!!!! I had to go to the MFK four times in order to get my plates. Each time, a person would tell me something like: "...now that you have these [useless] pieces of paper, you must go get this form from your pastor swearing that you did once drive an orange Vega." I'm exagerating slightly, but it wasn't too far from what I experienced. On the fourth trip, I begged an employee who spoke English to PLEASE provide me with a complete list of everything I needed, and he told me that all I needed was one piece of paper from my insurance agent. Luckily, I had the agent's phone number, asked the man if he would call the agent and have him fax him a copy, and surprisingly enough...he did just that. Although he had to throw in a "...this is highly unusual..." just for good measure.
Fast forward to four years later....
I walked into the MFK, and I was surprised to see that they now had a very organized number system. I pressed a button, and received number 516. I looked at the board and found that number 514 was currently being helped. About seven minutes later my number came up, and I went to a window where I was helped by a Herr Rüdisühli. I was able to tell him in German that my wife and I had just moved from Reinach to Binningen, and that I needed to change our address. He took our paper drivers licenses from me, went to a typewrite where he just put xxxxxxxxxxxx over the old address, typed the new address next to it, and put the official Baselland stamp next to it. It took about two minutes, and I was out of there! I kind of wish I hadn't put an hour's worth of coins into the parking meter.
On I went to buy some cat food from Qualipet along with a cat toy for King (I just can't pass up those stupid cat toys). After Qualipet, I drove to Media Markt where I bought some printer cartridges and stereo cables. Then, I went next door to IKEA.
When we first moved to Switzerland, I spent A LOT of time at IKEA. As a matter of fact, one time Mrs. TBF and I were in downtown Basel at Manor (a department store) and a man going down the escalator said hello to me in English while we were going up the escalator. Mrs. TBF asked me who he was, and I told her that it was the warehouse guy from IKEA. I just got an "Oh...my...God!" with the simultaneous eyes rolling up into the head...a classic Mrs. TBF look which I have had the pleasure of seeing at least about 5,000 times since we were married.
Anyway, I had to buy a small cabinet for our bathroom, and I actually understood the lady when she told me in German that I would have to pick out my own handles in the kitchen area before getting the rest of the stuff from the warehouse pick-up area after I paid for everything. Four years ago, I would have brought the boxes home, unpacked everything, assembled the cabinet, and then I would have hurled out a stream of expletives at IKEA, Sweden, and anything else that I could think of while wondering WHERE THE HELL THE @#$*&@#!!! HANDLES WERE!!!
So, I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. Let's see if I still feel the same way after trying to assemble the damn cabinet.
Four years ago, when I was in the process of changing from our Illinois license plates to Swiss plates, the MFK (I began substituting something else for the "M" and "F") was the bane of my existence. It was incredibly disorganized, most people refused to speak to me in English (and my German skills were practically non-existent), and worst of all: nobody would provide me with a list of all the things I needed in order to get my Swiss plates. It was absolutely one of the most frustrating experiences of my life!!!! I had to go to the MFK four times in order to get my plates. Each time, a person would tell me something like: "...now that you have these [useless] pieces of paper, you must go get this form from your pastor swearing that you did once drive an orange Vega." I'm exagerating slightly, but it wasn't too far from what I experienced. On the fourth trip, I begged an employee who spoke English to PLEASE provide me with a complete list of everything I needed, and he told me that all I needed was one piece of paper from my insurance agent. Luckily, I had the agent's phone number, asked the man if he would call the agent and have him fax him a copy, and surprisingly enough...he did just that. Although he had to throw in a "...this is highly unusual..." just for good measure.
Fast forward to four years later....
I walked into the MFK, and I was surprised to see that they now had a very organized number system. I pressed a button, and received number 516. I looked at the board and found that number 514 was currently being helped. About seven minutes later my number came up, and I went to a window where I was helped by a Herr Rüdisühli. I was able to tell him in German that my wife and I had just moved from Reinach to Binningen, and that I needed to change our address. He took our paper drivers licenses from me, went to a typewrite where he just put xxxxxxxxxxxx over the old address, typed the new address next to it, and put the official Baselland stamp next to it. It took about two minutes, and I was out of there! I kind of wish I hadn't put an hour's worth of coins into the parking meter.
On I went to buy some cat food from Qualipet along with a cat toy for King (I just can't pass up those stupid cat toys). After Qualipet, I drove to Media Markt where I bought some printer cartridges and stereo cables. Then, I went next door to IKEA.
When we first moved to Switzerland, I spent A LOT of time at IKEA. As a matter of fact, one time Mrs. TBF and I were in downtown Basel at Manor (a department store) and a man going down the escalator said hello to me in English while we were going up the escalator. Mrs. TBF asked me who he was, and I told her that it was the warehouse guy from IKEA. I just got an "Oh...my...God!" with the simultaneous eyes rolling up into the head...a classic Mrs. TBF look which I have had the pleasure of seeing at least about 5,000 times since we were married.
Anyway, I had to buy a small cabinet for our bathroom, and I actually understood the lady when she told me in German that I would have to pick out my own handles in the kitchen area before getting the rest of the stuff from the warehouse pick-up area after I paid for everything. Four years ago, I would have brought the boxes home, unpacked everything, assembled the cabinet, and then I would have hurled out a stream of expletives at IKEA, Sweden, and anything else that I could think of while wondering WHERE THE HELL THE @#$*&@#!!! HANDLES WERE!!!
So, I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. Let's see if I still feel the same way after trying to assemble the damn cabinet.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
I'm wasting away to nothing!
At the beginning of the year, I weighed about 113 kilos/248 lbs. which is pretty normal for me. On January 20th - the last day I went to the gym before our move - I weighed 109.9 kilos/242 lbs. The only thing I consciously did as far as dieting is concerned was that I switched from using heavy cream to using skim milk in my coffee (a MASSIVE sacrifice...believe me!). I was six pounds lighter, and Mrs. TBF was disgusted by the ease with which I lost the weight (by the way...she's lost 26 lbs. on Weight Watchers).
Two days ago, because of the move, I went to the gym for the first time since January 20th. I felt like my clothes were kind of loose, but I was shocked when I stepped on the scale and saw that I was....107.2 kilos/236 lbs. I LOST 12 POUNDS IN A MONTH WITHOUT EVEN TRYING!! It must be that I lost muscle weight during my gym hiatus. Either that, or I have a tapeworm the size of a cucumber!
Two days ago, because of the move, I went to the gym for the first time since January 20th. I felt like my clothes were kind of loose, but I was shocked when I stepped on the scale and saw that I was....107.2 kilos/236 lbs. I LOST 12 POUNDS IN A MONTH WITHOUT EVEN TRYING!! It must be that I lost muscle weight during my gym hiatus. Either that, or I have a tapeworm the size of a cucumber!
Just say NO to drugs....
...I sure as Hell can't. I guess I should clarify. I'm talking about veterinary drugs.
Just about every time I go to Dr. Buser's office to get a refill on one of Dominique's drugs, I walk out with the latest viel besser medication. Today, I went to get some arthritis medication that I squirt on Dominique's food everyday. I came out with that AND a special arthritis medication for those extra-bad arthritis days that may (or may not) be coming up in the future. So, I guess I'm a sap when it comes to the pets.
At least I AM able to pass up on the constantly improving Swiffer...
Is it my imagination, or is there a new type of Swiffer every time I go to the grocery store? Yesterday, I saw a Swiffer that squirts liquid and wipes. It's ridiculous, and it must be stopped! Who decides that the world needs this kind of stuff? What happened to the good old-fashioned mop and bucket? HMMMMM...let me think about this for a moment...
People buying Swiffer wipes and liquid refills = company making money.
People using a mop for several years and filling a bucket with soapy water = company not making money.
I GET IT!!!
People...this is mass brain-washing. You don't need it. My mom plunged my old pajamas into a bucket of water with some Spic (isn't this a little politically incorrect) 'N Span, or dishwashing liquid, or whatever was handy, and the floors were spotlessly clean.
Come to think of it...I'm pretty sure my mom NOW uses a Swiffer. Maybe it's not such a bad thing afterall.
Just about every time I go to Dr. Buser's office to get a refill on one of Dominique's drugs, I walk out with the latest viel besser medication. Today, I went to get some arthritis medication that I squirt on Dominique's food everyday. I came out with that AND a special arthritis medication for those extra-bad arthritis days that may (or may not) be coming up in the future. So, I guess I'm a sap when it comes to the pets.
At least I AM able to pass up on the constantly improving Swiffer...
Is it my imagination, or is there a new type of Swiffer every time I go to the grocery store? Yesterday, I saw a Swiffer that squirts liquid and wipes. It's ridiculous, and it must be stopped! Who decides that the world needs this kind of stuff? What happened to the good old-fashioned mop and bucket? HMMMMM...let me think about this for a moment...
People buying Swiffer wipes and liquid refills = company making money.
People using a mop for several years and filling a bucket with soapy water = company not making money.
I GET IT!!!
People...this is mass brain-washing. You don't need it. My mom plunged my old pajamas into a bucket of water with some Spic (isn't this a little politically incorrect) 'N Span, or dishwashing liquid, or whatever was handy, and the floors were spotlessly clean.
Come to think of it...I'm pretty sure my mom NOW uses a Swiffer. Maybe it's not such a bad thing afterall.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
WE'RE ALIVE!!!
We have survived the move to Binningen! I just hooked up my computer, and I'm back in the blogging business! I'll resume blogging again on a regular basis over the next couple of days. That's all for now!
Thursday, January 20, 2005
We're in the home stretch...
We get the keys to our new apartment this Friday night, and our focus has turned from packing to moving. This Saturday morning, we're going to drain and disassemble the water bed. Then, we'll bring it to the new place and set it up. Our plan is actually to begin sleeping at the new place this Saturday night so the pets can get used to it as quickly as possible. Along with the bed, the first things to be moved will be the coffee maker (top priority...waking up on Sunday morning without caffeine would not be a good thing), toiletries, pet supplies/medicine, toilet paper (the coffee maker takes priority) and paper towels, dining room table and a couple of chairs, etc., etc. I have a whole list of things. On Sunday, we'll just haul boxes from our current place, and put them into the storage area at the new place (I have a feeling that moving things up to our apartment in the elevator on a Sunday would be taboo!).
Yesterday, I packed some of the stereo stuff and most of the bar stock. I had an incredibly anal 2½ hour period of labeling all of the inputs and outputs on our stereo/satellite/T.V. combination so that I would have some hope of reassembling it correctly after the move. Everything's still hooked up, but we don't have surround-sound any more. I'll probably leave the T.V. hooked up until Wednesday morning, and then we'll be without satellite T.V. for probably about a week. YIKES!!!!!!!!!!!
Yesterday, I packed some of the stereo stuff and most of the bar stock. I had an incredibly anal 2½ hour period of labeling all of the inputs and outputs on our stereo/satellite/T.V. combination so that I would have some hope of reassembling it correctly after the move. Everything's still hooked up, but we don't have surround-sound any more. I'll probably leave the T.V. hooked up until Wednesday morning, and then we'll be without satellite T.V. for probably about a week. YIKES!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
It's nice to know...
...that I can still find my way around a hardware store.
I had to go to OBI today to pick up a few things, and I suddenly realized that I had know idea how to say "steel wool" in German. Even though I don't really go to OBI that often, I figured that it had to be organized pretty much the same way as Home Depot, Menards, Builders Square, etc. And I'm happy to report that this son-of-a-carpenter managed to find the steel wool in all of about 15 seconds.
On the way out I noticed that they were having a big sale on sauna kits, thought about buying one for the roof-top garden at the new apartment, and then decided that the one at the gym satisfies my sauna needs....for now!
I had to go to OBI today to pick up a few things, and I suddenly realized that I had know idea how to say "steel wool" in German. Even though I don't really go to OBI that often, I figured that it had to be organized pretty much the same way as Home Depot, Menards, Builders Square, etc. And I'm happy to report that this son-of-a-carpenter managed to find the steel wool in all of about 15 seconds.
On the way out I noticed that they were having a big sale on sauna kits, thought about buying one for the roof-top garden at the new apartment, and then decided that the one at the gym satisfies my sauna needs....for now!
Monday, January 17, 2005
Alone...
Do you ever wake up with a song going through your head, and then you just can't shake it for the rest of the day? My song of the day is "Alone" by Heart, off of their 1987 "Bad Animals" album. I saw the video for this song last week, and apparently some type of delayed after-effect has taken place. Actually, I really like this song. Especially that one point where Ann (Or, was it Nancy? I could never keep those two straight. I just looked it up...it is Ann! That's right, Ann was the chubby siren, and Nancy was the blonde vixen.) just wails half way through the song!
I tried recreating the wail for Mrs. TBF this morning shortly after waking up, and my morning voice wasn't quite there yet. I'll have to work on it for when she gets home tonight.
Really, Mrs. TBF shouldn't complain too much. Over the Christmas holiday, I woke up one morning with the song "Hot Diggity" (not sure of the title) going through my head. You know the song..."Hot diggity, dog diggity, ooh what you do to me...). For about three days I just kept spontaneously repeating the song with obsessive-compulsive fervor. Plus, I replaced the "ooh" with a very resounding "BOOM!". At first, I think Mrs. TBF thought it was kind of funny. But after about three days, I do recall there being a rather threatening "enough already!".
Where the heck did that song come from? More importantly, how many of my blog readers...are now going to be humming that song for the rest of the day?
I tried recreating the wail for Mrs. TBF this morning shortly after waking up, and my morning voice wasn't quite there yet. I'll have to work on it for when she gets home tonight.
Really, Mrs. TBF shouldn't complain too much. Over the Christmas holiday, I woke up one morning with the song "Hot Diggity" (not sure of the title) going through my head. You know the song..."Hot diggity, dog diggity, ooh what you do to me...). For about three days I just kept spontaneously repeating the song with obsessive-compulsive fervor. Plus, I replaced the "ooh" with a very resounding "BOOM!". At first, I think Mrs. TBF thought it was kind of funny. But after about three days, I do recall there being a rather threatening "enough already!".
Where the heck did that song come from? More importantly, how many of my blog readers...are now going to be humming that song for the rest of the day?
Goose...the other dark meat!
We barbecued a goose on the Weber last night, and I have to say that it was pretty darned tasty. The great thing about goose is...that IT'S ALL DARK MEAT!!! What more could you want? I think we kind of overcooked it, but it was still good. We figured that it would require eleven minutes per pound (just like turkey) on the grill, but I think that eight minutes per pound is a better estimate. Also, it wasn't the big grease explosion that I thought it would be. And the skin....MY GOD!!! HEAVEN!!! That kind of reminds me of something funny I saw on The Simpson's (quickly becoming my favorite T.V. show) last week.
Homer ordered some carry-out chicken, and he asked for "extra skin". Is that possible?
Homer ordered some carry-out chicken, and he asked for "extra skin". Is that possible?
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
I'm not asking for much.
Why is it so hard to get a DECENT TOMATO at the grocery store in January? Suddenly all the tomatoes are a pinkish hue, and they look like they won't be ripe until at least March.
With all of our technological advances, you'd think that man could develop some way to solve this problem. I mean, its exactly the same as it was thirty years ago. Come on! I'm slicing up pink cardboard balls and sticking them on our salad. This is an unmitigated outrage!
With all of our technological advances, you'd think that man could develop some way to solve this problem. I mean, its exactly the same as it was thirty years ago. Come on! I'm slicing up pink cardboard balls and sticking them on our salad. This is an unmitigated outrage!
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Lunch fit for a...dog?
You just have to love the French. Where else could you buy canned Saucisses aux Lentilles a la Graisse d'Oie (sausages with lentils in goose fat)? I paired up this "low fat" wonder with a Croque Monsieur (basically a Monte Cristo in America), and voila!!! Of course, I had to share some with Dominique.
We interrupt the packing of moving boxes...
...to bring you a NOT so important bit of information.
I was about to crumple up a page from The Mail to put in a moving box when I noticed the following article:
A president who's as exciting as concrete
It was a review of Jimmy Carter's new book. At first, Carter is praised as "...the first former United States president ever to have published a work of fiction." (Hmmm...has any current U.S. president ever published a work of fiction...other than most speeches and press conferences???) However, the praise quickly takes a turn for the worse when the reviewer goes on to state "...that Carter is an absolutely dreadful novelist: his dialogue and characterisation are not so much wooden as positively concrete. He would be well advised to stick to non-fiction in [the] future."
OUCH!!!
I was about to crumple up a page from The Mail to put in a moving box when I noticed the following article:
A president who's as exciting as concrete
It was a review of Jimmy Carter's new book. At first, Carter is praised as "...the first former United States president ever to have published a work of fiction." (Hmmm...has any current U.S. president ever published a work of fiction...other than most speeches and press conferences???) However, the praise quickly takes a turn for the worse when the reviewer goes on to state "...that Carter is an absolutely dreadful novelist: his dialogue and characterisation are not so much wooden as positively concrete. He would be well advised to stick to non-fiction in [the] future."
OUCH!!!
Friday, January 07, 2005
75 years old...and counting!
Yesterday was my Uncle Elmer's (it's actually Ilmari, but everybody calls him Elmer) 75th birthday. So, Mrs. TBF and I called him at his home in Beaver Lake, Ontario, Canada to wish him a happy birthday. All I can say is that I hope I'm in as good shape as Elmer when I'm 75 years old. He uses a wood burning stove as the main heating source for his house, and he splits all the wood by hand. And I'm not joking, his wood pile must be the equivalent of about fifty cords of wood. He goes hunting and fishing, rides one of those four-wheel all terrain vehicles, goes curling twice a week...just real active and a real outdoorsman. I wouldn't be surprised if he's still doing all of this stuff when he's 100 years old.
I also spoke with my Aunt Astrid who pretty much sounds exactly like my mom except she has a stronger Canadian accent, and my cousin Ken who was in town for my Uncle's birthday. It was nice talking to all of them. It was actually the first time I had spoken with Ken since our wedding 17+ years ago. He lives on a farm outside of Edmonton with his wife Kathleen and their horses, dogs, and cats. Just for fun, Mrs. TBF checked out flights from Basel to Edmonton. We'd have to fly from Basel to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Calgary, and Calgary to Edmonton - a total of 16+ hours of flying. Plus, Ken told me that it was -38ºC one morning a couple of weeks ago. So, maybe it would be better to go there during the summer months.
I also spoke with my Aunt Astrid who pretty much sounds exactly like my mom except she has a stronger Canadian accent, and my cousin Ken who was in town for my Uncle's birthday. It was nice talking to all of them. It was actually the first time I had spoken with Ken since our wedding 17+ years ago. He lives on a farm outside of Edmonton with his wife Kathleen and their horses, dogs, and cats. Just for fun, Mrs. TBF checked out flights from Basel to Edmonton. We'd have to fly from Basel to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Calgary, and Calgary to Edmonton - a total of 16+ hours of flying. Plus, Ken told me that it was -38ºC one morning a couple of weeks ago. So, maybe it would be better to go there during the summer months.
One thing I didn't learn in my German class...
...was how to say "moment of silence" in German.
As I was walking into my gym from the parking garage this past Wednesday, I heard an announcement being made in German over the P.A. system. All I caught was that something was happening at noon. I took the elevator up to the reception area, and said hello to a couple of staff members....no response. I walked a few more feet, said hello to a couple more people...blank stares. Suddenly, I notice that the entire gym was silent and that all the people were standing with their heads bowed. As it turns out, there was a three-minute moment of silence at noon throughout Europe for the victims of the tsunami.
So that's what the announcement over the intercom was all about. Doh!!!
As I was walking into my gym from the parking garage this past Wednesday, I heard an announcement being made in German over the P.A. system. All I caught was that something was happening at noon. I took the elevator up to the reception area, and said hello to a couple of staff members....no response. I walked a few more feet, said hello to a couple more people...blank stares. Suddenly, I notice that the entire gym was silent and that all the people were standing with their heads bowed. As it turns out, there was a three-minute moment of silence at noon throughout Europe for the victims of the tsunami.
So that's what the announcement over the intercom was all about. Doh!!!
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
A clean sweep...
Ahhhhh, Switzerland. It's 8:04 a.m., and the street sweeper is already shwishing down Langruttiweg - the walking path in front of our house - for the weekly street sweeping. I'm sure that the profession of street sweeper is highly sought after in Switzerland since it must provide forty-hour per week guaranteed lifetime employment. Afterall, the job of cleaning the Swiss roads which don't really need cleaning is a never-ending job, isn't it? Ah...there he goes again for his second pass at 8:14 a.m....chugging along at about 1 mph in his neon-orange jump suit looking all smug in his little plexiglass cubicle.
I wonder if he actually drives his little street sweeper home at night and parks it in front of his house to lord it over us. If so, I bet he has the cleanest street in Switzerland.
I wonder if he actually drives his little street sweeper home at night and parks it in front of his house to lord it over us. If so, I bet he has the cleanest street in Switzerland.
Monday, January 03, 2005
A shot in the arm.
That is what I unexpectedly received this afternoon.
Last year, I went for a physical and ended up receiving a littany of vaccinations after my doctor found out that I hadn't had any shots for about seventeen years. I ended up getting shots for polio, tetanus, and hepatitis.
The hepatitis vaccination is a three-parter. You get one shot, wait one month, get another shot, wait six months, and then get the third shot. Being that I had the second shot on March 22, 2004, I guess I was due for the third one in September. Naturally, I never got around to it...that is, until this afternoon.
This afternoon I stopped by Praxis Reinacherhof to make an appointment for my third hepatitis vaccination. I was totally expecting them to tell that they'd be able to take me in about nineteen weeks. So, imagine my surprise when they told me that they'd give me the shot right away. Although, I think they were a little alarmed that I didn't have my World Health Organization International Certificate of Vaccination book on me (do people actually carry those around with them?). Actually, they weren't quite as alarmed as when they asked me for it a year ago when I received my first vaccinations, and I told them that I had never even heard of this book. I'm sure this episode reinforced their belief that America's health care program is second rate.
The final outcome is: I'm unofficially up to date on my vaccinations. It won't be official until I go back to the doctor's office with my little W.H.O. booklet for the doctor's stamp and signature.
Last year, I went for a physical and ended up receiving a littany of vaccinations after my doctor found out that I hadn't had any shots for about seventeen years. I ended up getting shots for polio, tetanus, and hepatitis.
The hepatitis vaccination is a three-parter. You get one shot, wait one month, get another shot, wait six months, and then get the third shot. Being that I had the second shot on March 22, 2004, I guess I was due for the third one in September. Naturally, I never got around to it...that is, until this afternoon.
This afternoon I stopped by Praxis Reinacherhof to make an appointment for my third hepatitis vaccination. I was totally expecting them to tell that they'd be able to take me in about nineteen weeks. So, imagine my surprise when they told me that they'd give me the shot right away. Although, I think they were a little alarmed that I didn't have my World Health Organization International Certificate of Vaccination book on me (do people actually carry those around with them?). Actually, they weren't quite as alarmed as when they asked me for it a year ago when I received my first vaccinations, and I told them that I had never even heard of this book. I'm sure this episode reinforced their belief that America's health care program is second rate.
The final outcome is: I'm unofficially up to date on my vaccinations. It won't be official until I go back to the doctor's office with my little W.H.O. booklet for the doctor's stamp and signature.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Guess who's coming for dinner.
General Tso...that's who. A few days ago, Mrs. TBF decided that she was going to cook a New Year's Day Asian dinner extravaganza. She asked me if I had any requests, and I told her I wanted General Tso's chicken. She did a quick search on the internet, found a recipe, and my culinary wishes are going to come true. It's been a long time since I've had "the General", and I'm really looking forward to it!
We should be packing more moving boxes...
...but we've been pretty lazy today so far. We woke up around 10:00, ate some lunch, took Dominique for a long walk, and then we came home intending to take down the Christmas tree. At least that was our intention until I noticed that Uncle Buck will be starting at 14:55 on BBC1. So, who knows when that tree's going to come down. A John Candy movie takes priority over most things (God rest his soul..just added by Mrs. TBF who's in the kitchen getting dinner started).
Happy New Year!!!!
We had kind of a late night last night at John and Rammy's house. As usual, the food and drinks were great (including a MASSIVE beef roast). However, the highlight had to be the fireworks display provided by Henry and Susan.
Henry bought this big box of fireworks at a store in France for about 85 Euros, and it certainly did not disappoint. After lighting it in John and Rammy's backyard at the stroke of midnight, it churned out a rather impressive fireworks display for several minutes. Amazingly, no buildings, trees, or cars were set ablaze, and no Polizei showed up. Sure, we heard a few neighbors yelling out complaints in Swiss-German, but we couldn't understand them anyway...so, who cares?
Nobody really overdid it, and I ended up driving myself, Mrs. TBF, Andy, Di, Sam, and Alie down the Bruderholz hill back to Reinach around 2:15 a.m.
Henry bought this big box of fireworks at a store in France for about 85 Euros, and it certainly did not disappoint. After lighting it in John and Rammy's backyard at the stroke of midnight, it churned out a rather impressive fireworks display for several minutes. Amazingly, no buildings, trees, or cars were set ablaze, and no Polizei showed up. Sure, we heard a few neighbors yelling out complaints in Swiss-German, but we couldn't understand them anyway...so, who cares?
Nobody really overdid it, and I ended up driving myself, Mrs. TBF, Andy, Di, Sam, and Alie down the Bruderholz hill back to Reinach around 2:15 a.m.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Say cheese!
We had fondue for dinner tonight. I can't think of too many things that are better than fondue! All that creamery, garlicky, oozy goodness. The Swiss got it goin' on!!! By the way...the bag of fondue cheese said it was for 3-4 people. I ate 75% of it. That means that I ate three Swissy's worth. Damn!
Honesty is the best policy!
We went to the A Chau (Gesundheit!!!) Asian Market in Basel today to pick up a few things for our New Year's Day feast. The total cost for our things was 39 francs. I gave the lady a 200 franc note, and she gave me...261 francs change!!! An easy 61 franc profit plus free Asian groceries??? Of course not! I brought the mistake to the lady's attention, and she exchanged the 200 CHF note for a 100 CHF note. My good deed for the day!
Monday, December 27, 2004
Bz the waz...
I've been using Mrs. TBF's laptop today for blogging. Her work laptop has a German keyboard. Most of the keys are the same as the American keyboard, but the major differences are the y and the z are reversed and the apostrophe is in a different place. So, if I donät end up correcting what I tzpe, it looks something like this. Itös prettz annozing. I made the decision when we moved here that I was going to stick with the American kezboard. Mrs. TBF (verz bravelz) decided to go with the German kezboard. So, on the rare occasion that I have to use a German kezboard, I trz to not be too wordz because I begin to get reallz annozed....like now!
Those German lessons are beginning to pay off!
I went to the post office today to buy some garbage stickers (here, you have to buy stickers that you stick on each bag of garbage which means that you pay for each bag of garbage you throw out). When I walked up to the front door of the post office, I was surprised to find about forty people standing in line (usually it's one or two people). The line did not move at all after two minutes, and I told the man in front of me that I only needed to buy Abfallmarken, and he told me that I could buy them at the pharmacy down the street and save waiting in line. I drove down the street, bought my garbage stickers, found out the price is actually going to be reduced after the first of January (imagine that...the town is actually going to reduce the price of something!), and then I went to pick up Mrs. TBF who was playing tennis with a friend about five minutes away. So, making some small talk in German easily saved me twenty minutes of waiting time today.
We spent Boxing Day...
...packing boxes. Actually, we have been packing five or six boxes per day for our upcoming move. It's pretty hard packing boxes for a move that's coming up in a month. You can't just go shelf by shelf or cabinet by cabinet. You have to actually think about what you're going to be needing over the next month, skip those things, and then just try to fill up the boxes the best you can with the other stuff. We've made pretty good progress so far, and I'm sure we'll be totally ready when moving day comes up at the end of January. At least I hope we're not doing frantic packing the night before our move.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Merry Christmas!!!
I just wanted to take a short break from the gorge-fest I've been experiencing over the past few days to wish everybody a very MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Mrs. TBF has been cooking up a storm, and I've had no complaints....chicken pot pie, steak and Guinness pie, fried calamari, etc., etc. I just tell myself that it's winter, and I'm a mammal damn it!!! I need an extra roll of blubber for winter protection. It's part of my genetic make up.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
21.12.2004
Today is the 21st of December. In North America, it's written 12/21/2004. However, in most of the rest of the world it is written with the day before the month (personally, I think that's a stupid way to write it...Isn't the month more important than the day?) In Switzerland, it's written as 21.12.2004. What does all of this mean??? It means that it's the perfect day of the year to honor Rush's 1976 masterpiece album - 2112.
So, Mrs. TBF has been treated to both the original album, and a live version of 2112. Although she hasn't said anything, I'm sure she's not too happy about it. Maybe I'll show my appreciation by throwing some Coldplay into the CD player. I don't mind them, but they're no match for Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart!!!
So, Mrs. TBF has been treated to both the original album, and a live version of 2112. Although she hasn't said anything, I'm sure she's not too happy about it. Maybe I'll show my appreciation by throwing some Coldplay into the CD player. I don't mind them, but they're no match for Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart!!!
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Another trip down memory lane...
Twenty Six years ago today - on December 15, 1978 - I saw Rush in concert for the first time. They were touring in support of their Hemispheres album, and they played at the International Amphitheater in Chicago. I'm not going to bore you with a bunch of praise for this great band (people pretty much either love them or hate them). But, I would like to point out that Rush has had 22 gold albums in America. That puts them in a tie for fifth place all time behind The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Kiss, and Aerosmith. Pretty impressive, huh? So, why aren't they in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? If you think they should be, then click HERE to go fill out a petition to help get Rush inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Has it been FIVE years already???
What was on everybody's mind five years ago this month? Y2K!!! I can't believe that it's been five years since the end of Western civilization was supposedly nigh. Were you one of the many who were buying back-up generators, stock piling drinking water and canned goods, etc. I have to admit that I did stock pile two gallons of drinking water, and I may have had a flashlight in a drawer with dead batteries in it. But, I never really bought into the hype. Sure, I had thought about buying a back-up generator, but it was more as a back-up to power outages caused by ice storms - not Y2K!
When you look back at it, it all seems pretty silly now. I'm sure there are a lot of people who are still laughing about what a killing they made off of gullible people during the Y2K scare. Although, at the time, I guess there was the general feeling that something COULD happen.
If you do a "Y2K" search on Yahoo or Google, all you find are a bunch of "dead" websites. It's old news....almost as if it never happened. I mean, when's the last time you actually even thought about Y2K?
When you look back at it, it all seems pretty silly now. I'm sure there are a lot of people who are still laughing about what a killing they made off of gullible people during the Y2K scare. Although, at the time, I guess there was the general feeling that something COULD happen.
If you do a "Y2K" search on Yahoo or Google, all you find are a bunch of "dead" websites. It's old news....almost as if it never happened. I mean, when's the last time you actually even thought about Y2K?
Happy birthday to "The Wall"!
Pink Floyd's masterpiece album - The Wall - is 25 years old this month. OK, you caught me, it was actually released on November 30, 1979. But, since I got it as a Christmas gift in December, 1979, I'm celebrating the 25th anniversary this month. I can't even begin to count how many hours have been spent listening to this album/CD. First, in my bedroom in Wheeling, IL on my Radio Shack stereo with my black light on (how 70s!), then in my various dorm rooms in Evanston, IL. Then, I bought it on CD in the late 80s, and soon it will go onto our new iPod.
Yesterday's German lesson, of all things, jogged my memory regarding this album. Carmen - my German teacher - used the words "der Mauer". When I asked her what it meant, she said in English: "The Wall...like in Pink Floyd The Wall". My first thought was...Rock on, Carmen!!! Then, she spoiled it all by pointing out to me that the album came out the year she was born. Damn!
Yesterday's German lesson, of all things, jogged my memory regarding this album. Carmen - my German teacher - used the words "der Mauer". When I asked her what it meant, she said in English: "The Wall...like in Pink Floyd The Wall". My first thought was...Rock on, Carmen!!! Then, she spoiled it all by pointing out to me that the album came out the year she was born. Damn!
One of many TBF Rules...
If my window blinds are down...PLEASE DON'T RING MY DOORBELL!!!! That's just one of many rules I have which I will share with you over time.
A certain person who will remain nameless (Clue: She's Canadian and lives next-door to me) rang my doorbell this morning at 9:00 to ask me a question. My blinds were drawn, and there was no sign of life. The only reason I ended up going to my kitchen window to see who it was was because I'm expecting a delivery of moving boxes today, and I thought it might be the delivery man.
R.E.M. sleep interuptus.....NOT GOOD!
A certain person who will remain nameless (Clue: She's Canadian and lives next-door to me) rang my doorbell this morning at 9:00 to ask me a question. My blinds were drawn, and there was no sign of life. The only reason I ended up going to my kitchen window to see who it was was because I'm expecting a delivery of moving boxes today, and I thought it might be the delivery man.
R.E.M. sleep interuptus.....NOT GOOD!
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Juha soitti...
Minun serkku Juha soitti pari tunttii sitten. Hän meinnaa tulla Sveitsiin kaymäs. Ugh....just forget it. I can speak Finnish, but I have one heck of a time trying to write it.
What I just wrote was: My cousin Juha called a couple of hours ago. He intends on coming to Switzerland for a visit. Actually, he is going to be coming here from Finland on a business trip, and we're trying to coordinate getting together. I haven't seen him since 1985 when he was about 17 years old. I'm assuming he's changed a bit since then. I know I have.
We spoke on the phone for about thirty minutes. It was nice talking to him. He speaks English, but I told him I need to practice my Finnish every chance I get since it gets a bit rusty in Switzerland. I only speak Finnish with my father on the phone about once per week, and that's only for about three minutes. He's not that much of a phone talker, so after three minutes he hands the phone over to my mom. My mom speaks Finnish too, but I always speak English with her. So, this thirty minute Finnish conversation was a real treat.
When you tally up today's languages it comes out to: German: 95 minutes (90 minute lesson plus some random talking in public), Finnish: 30 minutes, English: 10 minutes (I ran into one of Mrs. TBF's ex-coworkers at Starbucks, I spoke with a neighbor for a couple of minutes, and random comments to the pets).
Speaking of the pets, I better go feed them. Dominique is pacing!
What I just wrote was: My cousin Juha called a couple of hours ago. He intends on coming to Switzerland for a visit. Actually, he is going to be coming here from Finland on a business trip, and we're trying to coordinate getting together. I haven't seen him since 1985 when he was about 17 years old. I'm assuming he's changed a bit since then. I know I have.
We spoke on the phone for about thirty minutes. It was nice talking to him. He speaks English, but I told him I need to practice my Finnish every chance I get since it gets a bit rusty in Switzerland. I only speak Finnish with my father on the phone about once per week, and that's only for about three minutes. He's not that much of a phone talker, so after three minutes he hands the phone over to my mom. My mom speaks Finnish too, but I always speak English with her. So, this thirty minute Finnish conversation was a real treat.
When you tally up today's languages it comes out to: German: 95 minutes (90 minute lesson plus some random talking in public), Finnish: 30 minutes, English: 10 minutes (I ran into one of Mrs. TBF's ex-coworkers at Starbucks, I spoke with a neighbor for a couple of minutes, and random comments to the pets).
Speaking of the pets, I better go feed them. Dominique is pacing!
Monday, December 13, 2004
What the Hell happened????
I just watched a show on BBC called "Whitney's Addictions". My God...what the Hell happened? It's amazing what happens when that downward spiral begins.
By the way...the Brits pronounce it: "Whitney Hooston." What the hell is that?
Yeah, I know. It's late. Mrs. TBF is in Zurich for a few nights. I just finished doing my German homework in front of the T.V. Actually, I didn't finish. I just gave up. My homework isn't being graded. I'm forty-two years old, and I don't have to do my homework if I don't want to!
By the way...the Brits pronounce it: "Whitney Hooston." What the hell is that?
Yeah, I know. It's late. Mrs. TBF is in Zurich for a few nights. I just finished doing my German homework in front of the T.V. Actually, I didn't finish. I just gave up. My homework isn't being graded. I'm forty-two years old, and I don't have to do my homework if I don't want to!
Friday, December 10, 2004
Well? I'm waiting...
Six weeks ago, a man came out to repair our boiler. At first, it was going off every couple of days or so, and I'd have to go down to the basement to turn it back on. It was a bit of an annoyance, but I learned to live with it. Suddenly, it started shutting down every few hours, and it became a hassle. That's when I decided that I'd had enough, and I called the service company.
The service man came out and did a temporary fix. He told me that he needed to order a replacement part and that he would come back out to install it when he received it. He spoke English very well, so I know there was no misunderstanding.
A couple of weeks later, a lady called from the company and set up an appointment with me (in German) for the following week. The appointment was for a Thursday morning at 9:00 a.m., and when nobody had shown up by 10:00 a.m. I gave the company a call.
The lady (once again, in German) told me that she would have the man stop by our house that morning. I figured that I had misunderstood her German and that I had just gotten the day or time wrong. When the man showed up a couple of hours later, he told me that he didn't even have me down for an appointment that day. He told me that the wrong part had come in, and that he, himself, would call me himself after I returned from Chicago on November 20th. He also told me that the lady I had spoken with at the company speaks perfect English and is married to a man from England.
This past Monday (December 6th), I called the company and spoke with the lady. I told her that I understood that she spoke English, and she responded in German that she does but my German is completely understandable and that she was going to speak to me in German. So, I muddled through a conversation in Germ-lish (a combination of German and English), and understood that she was going to check with the repairman and call me back.
Yesterday (December 9th), I called her back and she basically told me that she hadn't forgotten about me, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in. I told her that it had been about six weeks since the first service call. She said she realized that, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in.
So, that's where we stand right now. I have no recourse because it's the repair company that the landlord uses.
These are the little frustrating episodes that really grate on me here in Switzerland. I told this story to one of my Swiss neighbors, and she told me that it's the same for her and that it's not just the foreigners who are treated this way. Whenever you need something here, it has to be ordered.
Who couldn't run a successful business if you didn't have to carry an inventory and you didn't have to worry about customer service. Mein Gott!!!!
The service man came out and did a temporary fix. He told me that he needed to order a replacement part and that he would come back out to install it when he received it. He spoke English very well, so I know there was no misunderstanding.
A couple of weeks later, a lady called from the company and set up an appointment with me (in German) for the following week. The appointment was for a Thursday morning at 9:00 a.m., and when nobody had shown up by 10:00 a.m. I gave the company a call.
The lady (once again, in German) told me that she would have the man stop by our house that morning. I figured that I had misunderstood her German and that I had just gotten the day or time wrong. When the man showed up a couple of hours later, he told me that he didn't even have me down for an appointment that day. He told me that the wrong part had come in, and that he, himself, would call me himself after I returned from Chicago on November 20th. He also told me that the lady I had spoken with at the company speaks perfect English and is married to a man from England.
This past Monday (December 6th), I called the company and spoke with the lady. I told her that I understood that she spoke English, and she responded in German that she does but my German is completely understandable and that she was going to speak to me in German. So, I muddled through a conversation in Germ-lish (a combination of German and English), and understood that she was going to check with the repairman and call me back.
Yesterday (December 9th), I called her back and she basically told me that she hadn't forgotten about me, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in. I told her that it had been about six weeks since the first service call. She said she realized that, and that she will call me when the replacement part comes in.
So, that's where we stand right now. I have no recourse because it's the repair company that the landlord uses.
These are the little frustrating episodes that really grate on me here in Switzerland. I told this story to one of my Swiss neighbors, and she told me that it's the same for her and that it's not just the foreigners who are treated this way. Whenever you need something here, it has to be ordered.
Who couldn't run a successful business if you didn't have to carry an inventory and you didn't have to worry about customer service. Mein Gott!!!!
I was just wondering...
Why don't Swiss people wear gloves and hats? I've noticed this for some time, and it was noticed immediately by my parents when they visited us a couple of years ago.
The temperature this morning was below freezing. Mrs. TBF and I both had on hats, gloves, and scarves when we walked to the tram. We were definitely in the minority. Most of the people we saw just walked around looking cold with their hands pulled into their sleeves. Why they don't put on a pair of gloves, I just can't figure out. I even noticed a mom riding a bike with her two-ish year old child riding behind her in the child seat. The kid's gloveless hands were flailing around in the wind. Also, the kid wasn't wearing a hat. There's no way this kid could have been warm enough when you added in the wind chill of a bike ride with a temperature of -1ºC.
It's really strange. The locals wear winter coats, and the heat on the tram gets turned on, when the outdoor temperature drops below 15ºC, but very few people wear hats or gloves when it's really cold out. Sometimes, I just can't figure out these people.
The temperature this morning was below freezing. Mrs. TBF and I both had on hats, gloves, and scarves when we walked to the tram. We were definitely in the minority. Most of the people we saw just walked around looking cold with their hands pulled into their sleeves. Why they don't put on a pair of gloves, I just can't figure out. I even noticed a mom riding a bike with her two-ish year old child riding behind her in the child seat. The kid's gloveless hands were flailing around in the wind. Also, the kid wasn't wearing a hat. There's no way this kid could have been warm enough when you added in the wind chill of a bike ride with a temperature of -1ºC.
It's really strange. The locals wear winter coats, and the heat on the tram gets turned on, when the outdoor temperature drops below 15ºC, but very few people wear hats or gloves when it's really cold out. Sometimes, I just can't figure out these people.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
And now for the French Swiss!
Last night, Mrs. TBF and I went out for dinner with Tom and Sylvia. We drove about thirty minutes to a town called Soyhières which is just outside of Delémont - in the French speaking part of Switzerland. Even after living here for four years, I still find it amazing that you just drive thirty minutes away (within the same country), and they speak an entirely different language.
An interesting thing is that the French Swiss and the French French actually understand each other when they speak French. The Swiss German speakers, on the other hand, have a very strong dialect. The Swiss can understand when the Germans speak, but the Germans have a hard time understanding the Swiss. As a matter of fact, when a Swiss person is speaking German on a German TV program, the producers often put German subtitles at the bottom of the screen.
Anyway, language was not a barrier at Le Cavalier restaurant because when the first waiter heard that we were English speakers, he just switched places with another waiter who spoke very good English. Tom and I had some frogs legs, Sylvia had a nice vegetable platter that they made up for her, Mrs. TBF had some perch, we enjoyed a few bottles of wine, I had a nice banana split for dessert, some whiskey, and some coffee. They even brought us a couple of side orders of French fries. After dinner, the chef came by our table and shook our hands.
The perfect streak continues. We still have not had a bad meal in Europe!
An interesting thing is that the French Swiss and the French French actually understand each other when they speak French. The Swiss German speakers, on the other hand, have a very strong dialect. The Swiss can understand when the Germans speak, but the Germans have a hard time understanding the Swiss. As a matter of fact, when a Swiss person is speaking German on a German TV program, the producers often put German subtitles at the bottom of the screen.
Anyway, language was not a barrier at Le Cavalier restaurant because when the first waiter heard that we were English speakers, he just switched places with another waiter who spoke very good English. Tom and I had some frogs legs, Sylvia had a nice vegetable platter that they made up for her, Mrs. TBF had some perch, we enjoyed a few bottles of wine, I had a nice banana split for dessert, some whiskey, and some coffee. They even brought us a couple of side orders of French fries. After dinner, the chef came by our table and shook our hands.
The perfect streak continues. We still have not had a bad meal in Europe!
You gotta love the French!
Our old neighbors Tom and Sylvia have been in town this week. Yesterday, Sylvia and I took the train to Strasbourg to check out the Christmas market. Christmas markets aren't really my cup of tea (I think once you've seen one, you've seen them all), but I thought it would be nice to go to Strasbourg since I hadn't been there in four years.
We had an early start. We arrived at the Basel train station at about 7:00 a.m. so that we could buy our tickets for the 7:30 a.m. train. The Basel main train station is actually divided into the French and Swiss stations. So, if your journey is taking you to France, you simply walk through French border customs in the station, and then you are officially in France.
At 7:30, there was no sign of our train. We looked at the electronic board, and noticed that it was not posted. So, we just took the 7:58 a.m. train instead. This was my first dose of French for the day - no notice, no apology, no...nothing. The train just was not there, and we had to take the next one....c'est la vie!
After arriving in Strasbourg, we found our way to the information office at the train station. The sign outside the office actually read "General Information" in English alongside the French and German equivalents. I went to the desk and asked "Parlez vous Francais?" The response: "Non!" Then, I actually managed to blurt out Ou est la marché de Noel (not sure of the spelling), and the man's coworker rambled on in French and pointed down the main street. So, off we went...hopefully headed toward the Christmas market.
To our surprise we arrived at the market about fifteen minutes later. I won't bore you with the details, but the market definitely had a plethora of food, mulled wine, candles, ornaments, etc., etc. Sylvia and walked around for about an hour, and then we headed to this shop that has hand-painted, Russian wood carvings.
It was a nice shop. It seems that the specialty are these hand-painted carvings of Santa Claus. And, I must say, they are pretty impressive...at least they held my attention for about five minutes. Sylvia, being on a first name basis with the store owner (apparently she has a whole army of Russian Santas at home) was picking up the various carvings, comparing them, looking at the prices, etc. I had noticed about eighty or so "Do Not Touch" signs posted about the store, but apparently Sylvia had immunity. I, on the other hand, quickly found out that I did not share in this immunity.
I saw this little three inch nesting Santa, and when my finger was a mere centimeter or so away from it, I heard the petite store owner (who had suddenly turned into the general of the Soviet Red Army) bark out: "DO NOT TOUCH!!!!" Hoping to avoid Gulag) I immediatly slinked to the other side of the store. Along the way, I passed Sylvia who pretty much had a Santa under each arm, one under her chin, and was using a fourth one to scratch her back while the store owner smiled and asked her how her husband and children were doing.
After leaving the store with a couple of Santas, Sylvia and I went to the only restaurant in France that does not serve French onion soup or French fries. We couldn't believe it. The waiter did not (probably, would not) speak English, but I understood his French well enough to know that he was saying they did not have onion soup. Sylvia, being a vegetarian, wanted a green salad and a plate of fries. We had seen that some of the main courses were served with fries. However, the waiter just would not bring us a side order of French fries. So, I ate my liver quenelles with potato salad, and Sylvia had a green salad with two slices of bread. The food was good, but onion soup and French fries really would have hit the spot. To make matters worse, when we were getting up to leave, we saw another waiter setting down a big platter of fries at another table.....sacre bleu!
After lunch, we took a taxi back to the train station. We saw a sign for departures and headed in the direction of the arrow. About a minute later, we saw a sign that said departures was in the direction we had just come from. So, we turned back thinking that we missed a sign or something. As it turns out, we hadn't. There were just two signs about fifty meters apart from each other saying that the departures area was in the opposite direction. I fully expect that Sylvia and I are going to be on an episode of French Candid Camera in the near future.
After ignoring the signs and just finding the departure platform on our own. We boarded our train for the return journey to Basel (or, Bâle as the French call it). It was fairly uneventful until the French border patrol officers suddenly showed up. Before I knew it, I had some kind of official credentials about three inches from my nose and a man with an armband asking me a question in French. I just said, "Passport?" He said I need to see your passport and luggage. I gave him my passport, Swiss residency card, and held up my shopping bag from the Christmas market. After convincing him that I live in Basel and was just returning from the Strasbourg Christmas market, he allowed me to avoid being thrown into a French prison. Sylvia seemed to get a little more of the third degree since she is a holder of an American passport as opposed to my Canadian passport. But, she too avoided the guillotine. We kind of chalked it up to them having a little fun hassling a couple of foreigners. That was, until we saw them doing everything but strip searching an elderly French man. This silver-haired, approximately sixty-five year old, professional-looking, French man had his briefcase AND WALLET searched. They actually searched behind the credit cards, under the money, etc. inside his wallet. They found nothing, thanked him for his time, and then moved on.
And what is the result of this day, you ask? The result is: I still love the French! There's something about them that appeals to me. I don't know what it is. They're just incredibly unique, and I never know what to expect.
We had an early start. We arrived at the Basel train station at about 7:00 a.m. so that we could buy our tickets for the 7:30 a.m. train. The Basel main train station is actually divided into the French and Swiss stations. So, if your journey is taking you to France, you simply walk through French border customs in the station, and then you are officially in France.
At 7:30, there was no sign of our train. We looked at the electronic board, and noticed that it was not posted. So, we just took the 7:58 a.m. train instead. This was my first dose of French for the day - no notice, no apology, no...nothing. The train just was not there, and we had to take the next one....c'est la vie!
After arriving in Strasbourg, we found our way to the information office at the train station. The sign outside the office actually read "General Information" in English alongside the French and German equivalents. I went to the desk and asked "Parlez vous Francais?" The response: "Non!" Then, I actually managed to blurt out Ou est la marché de Noel (not sure of the spelling), and the man's coworker rambled on in French and pointed down the main street. So, off we went...hopefully headed toward the Christmas market.
To our surprise we arrived at the market about fifteen minutes later. I won't bore you with the details, but the market definitely had a plethora of food, mulled wine, candles, ornaments, etc., etc. Sylvia and walked around for about an hour, and then we headed to this shop that has hand-painted, Russian wood carvings.
It was a nice shop. It seems that the specialty are these hand-painted carvings of Santa Claus. And, I must say, they are pretty impressive...at least they held my attention for about five minutes. Sylvia, being on a first name basis with the store owner (apparently she has a whole army of Russian Santas at home) was picking up the various carvings, comparing them, looking at the prices, etc. I had noticed about eighty or so "Do Not Touch" signs posted about the store, but apparently Sylvia had immunity. I, on the other hand, quickly found out that I did not share in this immunity.
I saw this little three inch nesting Santa, and when my finger was a mere centimeter or so away from it, I heard the petite store owner (who had suddenly turned into the general of the Soviet Red Army) bark out: "DO NOT TOUCH!!!!" Hoping to avoid Gulag) I immediatly slinked to the other side of the store. Along the way, I passed Sylvia who pretty much had a Santa under each arm, one under her chin, and was using a fourth one to scratch her back while the store owner smiled and asked her how her husband and children were doing.
After leaving the store with a couple of Santas, Sylvia and I went to the only restaurant in France that does not serve French onion soup or French fries. We couldn't believe it. The waiter did not (probably, would not) speak English, but I understood his French well enough to know that he was saying they did not have onion soup. Sylvia, being a vegetarian, wanted a green salad and a plate of fries. We had seen that some of the main courses were served with fries. However, the waiter just would not bring us a side order of French fries. So, I ate my liver quenelles with potato salad, and Sylvia had a green salad with two slices of bread. The food was good, but onion soup and French fries really would have hit the spot. To make matters worse, when we were getting up to leave, we saw another waiter setting down a big platter of fries at another table.....sacre bleu!
After lunch, we took a taxi back to the train station. We saw a sign for departures and headed in the direction of the arrow. About a minute later, we saw a sign that said departures was in the direction we had just come from. So, we turned back thinking that we missed a sign or something. As it turns out, we hadn't. There were just two signs about fifty meters apart from each other saying that the departures area was in the opposite direction. I fully expect that Sylvia and I are going to be on an episode of French Candid Camera in the near future.
After ignoring the signs and just finding the departure platform on our own. We boarded our train for the return journey to Basel (or, Bâle as the French call it). It was fairly uneventful until the French border patrol officers suddenly showed up. Before I knew it, I had some kind of official credentials about three inches from my nose and a man with an armband asking me a question in French. I just said, "Passport?" He said I need to see your passport and luggage. I gave him my passport, Swiss residency card, and held up my shopping bag from the Christmas market. After convincing him that I live in Basel and was just returning from the Strasbourg Christmas market, he allowed me to avoid being thrown into a French prison. Sylvia seemed to get a little more of the third degree since she is a holder of an American passport as opposed to my Canadian passport. But, she too avoided the guillotine. We kind of chalked it up to them having a little fun hassling a couple of foreigners. That was, until we saw them doing everything but strip searching an elderly French man. This silver-haired, approximately sixty-five year old, professional-looking, French man had his briefcase AND WALLET searched. They actually searched behind the credit cards, under the money, etc. inside his wallet. They found nothing, thanked him for his time, and then moved on.
And what is the result of this day, you ask? The result is: I still love the French! There's something about them that appeals to me. I don't know what it is. They're just incredibly unique, and I never know what to expect.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Am I taking crazy pills or something?
Or, am I the only person who realizes that the 70+ year old ladies with the jet black/dark brown/pumpkin orange hair who ride the tram are dyeing their hair? I mean, come on...give it up! I know your hair is grey. Maybe the rest of the tram passengers are fooled, but I'm certainly not. Just show off your grey hair with pride - you earned it! At the very least, choose a color that isn't quite so extreme. May I recommend a nice light brown, or a dirty blond. There's something about the combination of a deeply wrinkled face and charcoal black hair that just isn't right.
Something you don't see everyday...
Mrs. TBF and I were watching some show on BBC last night, and I noticed that the interviewer was wearing a monocle. That got me to wondering - Where does one buy a monocle these days?
For the answer, I just had to turn to the trusty internet. I typed "monocle" into Yahoo, and the first choice was: "Buy Monocle eyewear at EyeGlasses.com." It's nice to know that the monocle wearer has seven styles to choose from. I guess if I were a monocle wearer that I would want a different one for each day of the week too.
For the answer, I just had to turn to the trusty internet. I typed "monocle" into Yahoo, and the first choice was: "Buy Monocle eyewear at EyeGlasses.com." It's nice to know that the monocle wearer has seven styles to choose from. I guess if I were a monocle wearer that I would want a different one for each day of the week too.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Happy birthday, Bob Neuenfeldt!
Bob used to live behind me when I was growing up in Wheeling, Illinois. I think his addres was 43 Redwood Trail, and his parents names were Bill and Inez. He also had two sisters named Debbie and Donna. For some reason, I always remember his birthday on December 5th. I'm not really sure why. It's just one of those dates that sticks in my head. He would be 43 now, and I haven't seen him since about 1975 when he moved to California.
I noticed in Yahoo People Search that there is a Bob Neuenfeldt listed in Newport Beach, CA. If that's him, kudos on "making it." Newport Beach is pretty affluent, so he must be doing OK. Happy birthday from TBF.
I noticed in Yahoo People Search that there is a Bob Neuenfeldt listed in Newport Beach, CA. If that's him, kudos on "making it." Newport Beach is pretty affluent, so he must be doing OK. Happy birthday from TBF.
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Many good things happened yesterday...
First of all, an excellent week of fitness culminated with an intensive, butt-kicking kick boxing class followed by some relaxation in the Sauna Landschaft and five minutes in the tanning bed at my gym.
Then, Mrs. TBF returned from a two-night business trip to Dublin with some black puddin' from the Dublin Airport duty-free shop. If you've never had black pudding, I highly recommend it. Find an Irish butcher, and bring some home for a proper Irish breakfast.
Mrs. TBF and I then walked over to Emil Frey to pick up our car. The men in the blue lab coats had it waiting for us all vacuumed out. Most importantly - the CD player was repaired. Not only was it repaired, but they had it cued up so that when I turned the car on, Going For the One (my favorite album of all time), by Yes, was playing. It was the third CD in the player, so it couldn't have been at random. By the way, when you have your car repaired in Switzerland, you don't pay before you leave the dealership. THEY SEND YOU THE BILL IN THE MAIL...SOMETIMES AS MUCH AS ONE MONTH AFTER THE REPAIR! Can you believe it? What a trusting country. Could you imagine what would happen in the U.S. if you didn't have to pay your car service bill before getting your keys back? The U.S. bill collection industry would double overnight!
After we returned home, I took a forty-five minute nap. Then, I finally finished the last of the turkey soup with a couple of BLT sandwiches. As a rule, any day where bacon is consumed automatically bumps that day into the top percentile of all days.
Finally, marital relations probably would have resulted in this being the pinnacle of all days, but Mrs. TBF and I were rather tired. She was tired from her trip, and I was tired from a combination of kick boxing and a stomach full of bacon. I guess it just wasn't to be. But, it was a great day nonetheless!
Then, Mrs. TBF returned from a two-night business trip to Dublin with some black puddin' from the Dublin Airport duty-free shop. If you've never had black pudding, I highly recommend it. Find an Irish butcher, and bring some home for a proper Irish breakfast.
Mrs. TBF and I then walked over to Emil Frey to pick up our car. The men in the blue lab coats had it waiting for us all vacuumed out. Most importantly - the CD player was repaired. Not only was it repaired, but they had it cued up so that when I turned the car on, Going For the One (my favorite album of all time), by Yes, was playing. It was the third CD in the player, so it couldn't have been at random. By the way, when you have your car repaired in Switzerland, you don't pay before you leave the dealership. THEY SEND YOU THE BILL IN THE MAIL...SOMETIMES AS MUCH AS ONE MONTH AFTER THE REPAIR! Can you believe it? What a trusting country. Could you imagine what would happen in the U.S. if you didn't have to pay your car service bill before getting your keys back? The U.S. bill collection industry would double overnight!
After we returned home, I took a forty-five minute nap. Then, I finally finished the last of the turkey soup with a couple of BLT sandwiches. As a rule, any day where bacon is consumed automatically bumps that day into the top percentile of all days.
Finally, marital relations probably would have resulted in this being the pinnacle of all days, but Mrs. TBF and I were rather tired. She was tired from her trip, and I was tired from a combination of kick boxing and a stomach full of bacon. I guess it just wasn't to be. But, it was a great day nonetheless!
Thursday, December 02, 2004
It's THAT time of year again...
Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m., I have to bring my whip (that's gangsta' for car) in for its ANNUAL oil change. Yup, I said annual. My buddies - the technicians in the blue lab coats - at Emil Frey use synthetic oil, and I've only driven about 5,000 km. this year, so I only need to have the oil changed once per year. I'm also going to have my 50,000 km. service which means, in their words, that it will be a gross Service (gross as in German for big, not as in English for disgusting). Since we shipped our car from America, I have to put a sign in the car reminding them that the odometer is in miles, not in kilometers. The first time I ever brought the car in for service, they told me that they had done the 12,500 km. service. I told them thanks, but the car actually had 20,000 km. (or, 12,500 miles) on it. I didn't really mind the honest mistake one time, but I don't really want it to happen again. Having your car serviced is an expensive undertaking in Switzerland - an oil change costs about $60 as opposed to the $25 one pays at Jiffy Lube in the U.S.
Also, the notice for my car inspection just came in today (January 31, 2005 at 1:00 p.m...."please arrive five minutes before your appointed time"). Switzerland has incredibly thorough mandatory car inspections which apparently come up once every four years. They go over the car with a fine-toothed comb, and whatever they find wrong you have to have repaired within a certain time period. This, too, can become kind of expensive. I'm going to bring my notice in to the blue lab coat boys tomorrow and tell them to get the car ready for the inspection. I fully expect tomorrow's service to cost about 2,000 CHF (about $1,735 U.S.). Then, I'll have to bring it back right before the inspection to have the engine steam cleaned (required for the inspection) and pay a high wage earning mechanic in a blue lab coat to drive my car over to the testing station (not required, but there's no way I'm going to try to decipher auto part names in Swiss-German), and it will set us back another few hundred francs. When you add up the maintenance, insurance (2,900 CHF per year), parking (175 CHF per month in our new apartment), and gasoline (1.45 CHF/liter or about $4.78 U.S./gallon), it starts to seem pretty expensive to keep a vehicle that we drive only a couple of times per week.
And speaking of insurance...I just e-mailed our insurance agent with a few questions, and I asked him why our car insurance premiums are so high considering that our car is now five years old. He responded with a number of reasons, but the shocking one was that the insurance value in Switzerland of our 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited is 46,000 CHF. That means that our five year old Jeep is currently worth $39,937.48 U.S. in Switzerland (using today's exchange rate). Our car is worth more than we paid for it five years ago!!! Maybe it's not that expensive a thing to keep around afterall.
Also, the notice for my car inspection just came in today (January 31, 2005 at 1:00 p.m...."please arrive five minutes before your appointed time"). Switzerland has incredibly thorough mandatory car inspections which apparently come up once every four years. They go over the car with a fine-toothed comb, and whatever they find wrong you have to have repaired within a certain time period. This, too, can become kind of expensive. I'm going to bring my notice in to the blue lab coat boys tomorrow and tell them to get the car ready for the inspection. I fully expect tomorrow's service to cost about 2,000 CHF (about $1,735 U.S.). Then, I'll have to bring it back right before the inspection to have the engine steam cleaned (required for the inspection) and pay a high wage earning mechanic in a blue lab coat to drive my car over to the testing station (not required, but there's no way I'm going to try to decipher auto part names in Swiss-German), and it will set us back another few hundred francs. When you add up the maintenance, insurance (2,900 CHF per year), parking (175 CHF per month in our new apartment), and gasoline (1.45 CHF/liter or about $4.78 U.S./gallon), it starts to seem pretty expensive to keep a vehicle that we drive only a couple of times per week.
And speaking of insurance...I just e-mailed our insurance agent with a few questions, and I asked him why our car insurance premiums are so high considering that our car is now five years old. He responded with a number of reasons, but the shocking one was that the insurance value in Switzerland of our 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited is 46,000 CHF. That means that our five year old Jeep is currently worth $39,937.48 U.S. in Switzerland (using today's exchange rate). Our car is worth more than we paid for it five years ago!!! Maybe it's not that expensive a thing to keep around afterall.
I blew it!
I just had two Jehova's Witnesses come to my door. I should have invited them in for some turkey soup. Sure, I'd have to listen to their schtick, but it would have been my chance to unload the leftovers. It was God's way of getting me out of my predicament...and I blew it!!!
Turkey...Day 6, and counting!
We had our Thanksgiving turkey at Andy and Di's house last Saturday night, and I have to say it was some damn fine bird! It was about 9.5 kilos/21 lbs., and I made it on the Weber as usual (11 minutes per pound, indirect method, add 10 coals per side...has never failed me yet). As it turns out, it was the bird that almost wasn't. Let me explain.
About a week before our dinner, while I was in Chicago, Mrs. TBF went with a French speaking co-worker to the grocery store just over the border in St. Louis, France. There, they ordered an eight kilo turkey, and said that we'd pick it up on Friday, November 26th. When Friday came, I picked up Mrs. TBF and a few of her co-workers. Fortunately, her assistant (who is French), also came along just in case we had any problems. And, as it turns out, we did.
As we walked up to the meat department, we noticed one 9.5 kilo bird in the "public" cooler. I kind of stayed back looking it over while Mrs. TBF's co-worker began speaking with the man behind the meat counter. Suddenly, I saw him shaking his head, which was followed by him and a butcherette looking through various coolers. He told me (translated by Mrs. TBF's co-worker) to guard the ONE REMAINING TURKEY in the cooler...I did. After finding no turkey with our name on it, he looked at a list, and then he showed us that our name had been crossed off. Why? I guess we'll never know. All I know is, that we ended up walking out of Géant with a bigger bird than we expected. And, that brings me to my point...
The downfall of a 9.5 kilo turkey: turkey leftovers for days. Sunday through Tuesday consisted of leftover turkey, stuffing, etc. Last night, I thought I was in the homestretch when I was making the turkey soup. Then, I realized that I had about three more meals worth of soup leftover after eating last night's dinner. I'll have turkey soup for lunch and dinner today, and then for lunch tomorrow.
I love a good bird. But, enough is enough.
About a week before our dinner, while I was in Chicago, Mrs. TBF went with a French speaking co-worker to the grocery store just over the border in St. Louis, France. There, they ordered an eight kilo turkey, and said that we'd pick it up on Friday, November 26th. When Friday came, I picked up Mrs. TBF and a few of her co-workers. Fortunately, her assistant (who is French), also came along just in case we had any problems. And, as it turns out, we did.
As we walked up to the meat department, we noticed one 9.5 kilo bird in the "public" cooler. I kind of stayed back looking it over while Mrs. TBF's co-worker began speaking with the man behind the meat counter. Suddenly, I saw him shaking his head, which was followed by him and a butcherette looking through various coolers. He told me (translated by Mrs. TBF's co-worker) to guard the ONE REMAINING TURKEY in the cooler...I did. After finding no turkey with our name on it, he looked at a list, and then he showed us that our name had been crossed off. Why? I guess we'll never know. All I know is, that we ended up walking out of Géant with a bigger bird than we expected. And, that brings me to my point...
The downfall of a 9.5 kilo turkey: turkey leftovers for days. Sunday through Tuesday consisted of leftover turkey, stuffing, etc. Last night, I thought I was in the homestretch when I was making the turkey soup. Then, I realized that I had about three more meals worth of soup leftover after eating last night's dinner. I'll have turkey soup for lunch and dinner today, and then for lunch tomorrow.
I love a good bird. But, enough is enough.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Just another day...
Mrs. TBF wished me a happy Thanksgiving yesterday morning, and then I forgot about it. You see, it's not Thanksgiving here in Switzerland...it's just an ordinary day. I forgot all about it again until I received an e-mail from my ex-next-door-neighbor Chris wishing me a happy Thanksgiving. So...a happy belated Thanksgiving to all of my family and friends in America.
This afternoon, after my kick boxing class, I'm going to pick up Mrs. TBF from work and we're going to head into France to pick up our turkey at Géant. She ordered an eight kilo (17.6 lbs.) bird. Actually, she had a co-worker who speaks French order it for us. Hopefully everything goes as planned. Otherwise I'll be doing charades in front of the butcher at the grocery store since I speak about ten words of French. We're going to be having our Thanksgiving dinner at Andy and Di's house this Saturday night for the third year in a row. I will barbecue the bird on my Weber, and I have to shuck a bunch of oysters. Mrs. TBF is preparing something too, but I'm not sure what exactly.
Yesterday, I had a man come to give us a moving estimate. He said we're going to need about 100 boxes. I'm going to do most of the packing myself, and then have the moving company move the boxes and the big stuff. It's going to involve using an outdoor elevator or crane at the new place, so I have a feeling it's not going to be cheap.
Moving in Switzerland is a real hassle compared to moving in America. In America, you just move. Here, you have to de-register at your town hall. Then, you have to re-register at the new town hall. Also, we have to have our ISDN phone box disconnected at our current house, and re-installed at our new house. The good news is that it means we'll keep our current phone number. The bad news, is that we have to pay some guy an exorbitant fee to do it for us. I was fortunate to find a man who does this service (and speaks English) this morning parked in front of a neighbor's house who's moving today, and I got one of his business cards. I also took the phone number off of the neighbor's moving van so I could call another moving company for a moving estimate. I called the office, tried speaking in German, realized that my knowledge of German moving terms was limited, asked for an English speaker, and spoke with three people before I found somebody who spoke perfect English. He's coming out next Wednesday morning at 8:00.
After getting the moving estimates, then I'll have to arrange the moving date. The people who are currently in our new apartment will be out by the first week of January, but our lease does not begin until February 1st. Since the apartment has to be repainted before we can move in, the trick is to try to get the management company to do it by the middle of January so we can rent the apartment back from the current tenants for the last two weeks of January. If I can do this, it will give us a lot of flexibility in moving. Plus, it'll be cheaper to move if we can do it on a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. If not, the move will have to take place on the last day of the month. It'll be more expensive, and it will be a total hassle.
Stay tuned. Don't touch that dial.
This afternoon, after my kick boxing class, I'm going to pick up Mrs. TBF from work and we're going to head into France to pick up our turkey at Géant. She ordered an eight kilo (17.6 lbs.) bird. Actually, she had a co-worker who speaks French order it for us. Hopefully everything goes as planned. Otherwise I'll be doing charades in front of the butcher at the grocery store since I speak about ten words of French. We're going to be having our Thanksgiving dinner at Andy and Di's house this Saturday night for the third year in a row. I will barbecue the bird on my Weber, and I have to shuck a bunch of oysters. Mrs. TBF is preparing something too, but I'm not sure what exactly.
Yesterday, I had a man come to give us a moving estimate. He said we're going to need about 100 boxes. I'm going to do most of the packing myself, and then have the moving company move the boxes and the big stuff. It's going to involve using an outdoor elevator or crane at the new place, so I have a feeling it's not going to be cheap.
Moving in Switzerland is a real hassle compared to moving in America. In America, you just move. Here, you have to de-register at your town hall. Then, you have to re-register at the new town hall. Also, we have to have our ISDN phone box disconnected at our current house, and re-installed at our new house. The good news is that it means we'll keep our current phone number. The bad news, is that we have to pay some guy an exorbitant fee to do it for us. I was fortunate to find a man who does this service (and speaks English) this morning parked in front of a neighbor's house who's moving today, and I got one of his business cards. I also took the phone number off of the neighbor's moving van so I could call another moving company for a moving estimate. I called the office, tried speaking in German, realized that my knowledge of German moving terms was limited, asked for an English speaker, and spoke with three people before I found somebody who spoke perfect English. He's coming out next Wednesday morning at 8:00.
After getting the moving estimates, then I'll have to arrange the moving date. The people who are currently in our new apartment will be out by the first week of January, but our lease does not begin until February 1st. Since the apartment has to be repainted before we can move in, the trick is to try to get the management company to do it by the middle of January so we can rent the apartment back from the current tenants for the last two weeks of January. If I can do this, it will give us a lot of flexibility in moving. Plus, it'll be cheaper to move if we can do it on a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. If not, the move will have to take place on the last day of the month. It'll be more expensive, and it will be a total hassle.
Stay tuned. Don't touch that dial.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
My two-week hiatus is over!
I've been back from Chicago for five days now, and I've been taking a bit of a rest from blogging. It usually takes me a few days to get over my jet lag, so I've been kind of in a daze for the past few days.
The trip went well. A few memories from my trip:
-Hey flight attendants from United Airlines flying from Frankfurt to Chicago...I know you've had to take a pay cut, but how about an occasional smile? Oh, and a "thank you" wouldn't hurt either.
-Saturday...I saw my niece - Kiera - play soccer. Then, we all went to Chili's where I had an Awesome Blossom and a bacon burger. Later that evening, Perry, Renee, and I went to see Muse at the Riviera Theatre on Saturday, November 13th. I saw a man receive three stick-on passes after he told a bouncer that he was with "Team Epic". So, I waited about 30 seconds and then told the same bouncer that I was with "Team Epic" and that I needed three passes. He gave them to me, and we were seated in a special reserved seating area at the front of the balcony with a great view of the stage and a waitress who took our drink orders. I wonder what "Team Epic" is!?!?! And let me just say that MUSE ROCKS!!! I was so amped after the concert that when a bum on the street told me he "needed money for a place to stay for the night"...I gave him $5! And, I told him that I didn't even mind if he spent it on beer!
-On Sunday, Perry, Renee, and I went to Costco. COSTCO RULES!!! First of all, it was a real novelty shopping on a Sunday. Secondly, it was nice seeing 20 lb. slabs of ribs, 50-roll packs of toilet paper, gallon cans of ketchup, etc. for sale. The meat department nearly made me weep. Later that evening, Perry deep-fried a couple of turkeys....DAMN GOOD BIRD!!!!
-Monday...some shopping (bought some Michael Vick signature Nike cross-trainers at Sportmart...I'll bet that there aren't too many of those in Switzerland...especially size 13!), went to the dentist, and had a dinner (at 4:15 p.m.!!!!) at Old Country Buffet with my parents, my Aunt Lauha, my sister, and her kids. It's amazing what kids eat. My nieces and nephew basically stuck to Jello, French fries, corn, and ice cream!
-Tuesday...rented a car (Black Cadillac Sedan DeVille...felt like my dad!), had two Whoppers for $3 at Burger King for lunch, did some power shopping (some Tommy Bahama shirts and Kangol hats), and then went into the city to Dave and Shannon's house for dinner where I saw their 2-month old daughter - Stella - for the first time.
-Wednesday...met with our financial advisor, lunch and more shopping (including another trip to Costco where I bought lots-o-beef, and a trip to Home Depot where I bought some cement for my dad) with my mom and sister, went to the Apple store for the PC to Apple switch class where I did not become convinced that Apple is the way to go (it's too bad because I was ready to buy an Apple on the spot...although I haven't ruled it out yet), bought an iPod, dinner with the family at Diana's house.
-Thursday...returned my rental car, went to Finn and Diana's ice skating lesson, helped my dad carry a shower base from the garage to the bathroom he's remodeling at my sister's house, ate some Costco steaks for dinner with my mom, dad, Diana, Colm, the kids, and Jo (my mother-in-law).
-Friday....said goodbye to Jo (I stay at her house when I'm in Chicago) when she dropped me off at Diana's house, went out for breakfast with Diana, Mom, Dad, and Finn at Egg Harbor where I had the special with a side-order of my much beloved corned-beef-hash, said goodbye to the family, the car picked me up to take me to the airport at 11:00, and then I was gone.
Let's just say that I returned to Switzerland with well over my CHF 300 (approx. $250) limit, including: a bottle of tequila, four Tommy Bahama shirts, two Kangol hats, several DVDs (All In The Family Season 1, Mr. Show, SCTV, Farenheit 911, Super Size Me, etc.), cold and allergy medicine, an iPod, cross-trainers, books, etc., etc. Upon arriving at Basel Airport, the customs guy actually put my carry-on through the x-ray machine...but he didn't say anything.
Ahhhh, home sweet home!
The trip went well. A few memories from my trip:
-Hey flight attendants from United Airlines flying from Frankfurt to Chicago...I know you've had to take a pay cut, but how about an occasional smile? Oh, and a "thank you" wouldn't hurt either.
-Saturday...I saw my niece - Kiera - play soccer. Then, we all went to Chili's where I had an Awesome Blossom and a bacon burger. Later that evening, Perry, Renee, and I went to see Muse at the Riviera Theatre on Saturday, November 13th. I saw a man receive three stick-on passes after he told a bouncer that he was with "Team Epic". So, I waited about 30 seconds and then told the same bouncer that I was with "Team Epic" and that I needed three passes. He gave them to me, and we were seated in a special reserved seating area at the front of the balcony with a great view of the stage and a waitress who took our drink orders. I wonder what "Team Epic" is!?!?! And let me just say that MUSE ROCKS!!! I was so amped after the concert that when a bum on the street told me he "needed money for a place to stay for the night"...I gave him $5! And, I told him that I didn't even mind if he spent it on beer!
-On Sunday, Perry, Renee, and I went to Costco. COSTCO RULES!!! First of all, it was a real novelty shopping on a Sunday. Secondly, it was nice seeing 20 lb. slabs of ribs, 50-roll packs of toilet paper, gallon cans of ketchup, etc. for sale. The meat department nearly made me weep. Later that evening, Perry deep-fried a couple of turkeys....DAMN GOOD BIRD!!!!
-Monday...some shopping (bought some Michael Vick signature Nike cross-trainers at Sportmart...I'll bet that there aren't too many of those in Switzerland...especially size 13!), went to the dentist, and had a dinner (at 4:15 p.m.!!!!) at Old Country Buffet with my parents, my Aunt Lauha, my sister, and her kids. It's amazing what kids eat. My nieces and nephew basically stuck to Jello, French fries, corn, and ice cream!
-Tuesday...rented a car (Black Cadillac Sedan DeVille...felt like my dad!), had two Whoppers for $3 at Burger King for lunch, did some power shopping (some Tommy Bahama shirts and Kangol hats), and then went into the city to Dave and Shannon's house for dinner where I saw their 2-month old daughter - Stella - for the first time.
-Wednesday...met with our financial advisor, lunch and more shopping (including another trip to Costco where I bought lots-o-beef, and a trip to Home Depot where I bought some cement for my dad) with my mom and sister, went to the Apple store for the PC to Apple switch class where I did not become convinced that Apple is the way to go (it's too bad because I was ready to buy an Apple on the spot...although I haven't ruled it out yet), bought an iPod, dinner with the family at Diana's house.
-Thursday...returned my rental car, went to Finn and Diana's ice skating lesson, helped my dad carry a shower base from the garage to the bathroom he's remodeling at my sister's house, ate some Costco steaks for dinner with my mom, dad, Diana, Colm, the kids, and Jo (my mother-in-law).
-Friday....said goodbye to Jo (I stay at her house when I'm in Chicago) when she dropped me off at Diana's house, went out for breakfast with Diana, Mom, Dad, and Finn at Egg Harbor where I had the special with a side-order of my much beloved corned-beef-hash, said goodbye to the family, the car picked me up to take me to the airport at 11:00, and then I was gone.
Let's just say that I returned to Switzerland with well over my CHF 300 (approx. $250) limit, including: a bottle of tequila, four Tommy Bahama shirts, two Kangol hats, several DVDs (All In The Family Season 1, Mr. Show, SCTV, Farenheit 911, Super Size Me, etc.), cold and allergy medicine, an iPod, cross-trainers, books, etc., etc. Upon arriving at Basel Airport, the customs guy actually put my carry-on through the x-ray machine...but he didn't say anything.
Ahhhh, home sweet home!
Friday, November 12, 2004
Thanks United Airlines...
...for NOTHING!
I woke up at 4:30 a.m. this morning so that I could catch the 6:55 a.m. flight from Basel's Euroairport to Frankfurt for my connection to Chicago. Mrs. TBF and I walked up to the check-in counter at 6:07 a.m. (you have to check-in 40 minutes before your flight in Basel), and the man told me I was too late. "How could that be?", I asked. As it turns out, the Lufthansa flight from Basel to Frankfurt was changed from 6:55 a.m. to 6:25 a.m. I booked the ticket through United, and they never informed me of the time change. Fortunately, there is a later flight to Frankfurt, so I'll be able to make my flight to Chicago. I was going to have a several hour layover in Frankfurt. Instead, Mrs. TBF and I went back home, and I'll just have a shorter layover in Frankfurt. I was able to check in and get all boarding passes, so I'm all set for my trip. We bought the ticket and used miles to upgrade to business class (I refuse to fly coach overseas...is that kind of diva-like?), and I didn't lose my business class seat to Chicago even though I had to be re-booked....which is good!
Of course I know that one should always confirm their flight before flying, but when you do, they just tell you that they would call you if there were any changes. So, what's the point? United didn't call me. I'm sure if I complain, they'll just tell me that Lufthansa should have notified me (my flight to Frankfurt is on Lufthansa). I guess, all's well that ends well.
I woke up at 4:30 a.m. this morning so that I could catch the 6:55 a.m. flight from Basel's Euroairport to Frankfurt for my connection to Chicago. Mrs. TBF and I walked up to the check-in counter at 6:07 a.m. (you have to check-in 40 minutes before your flight in Basel), and the man told me I was too late. "How could that be?", I asked. As it turns out, the Lufthansa flight from Basel to Frankfurt was changed from 6:55 a.m. to 6:25 a.m. I booked the ticket through United, and they never informed me of the time change. Fortunately, there is a later flight to Frankfurt, so I'll be able to make my flight to Chicago. I was going to have a several hour layover in Frankfurt. Instead, Mrs. TBF and I went back home, and I'll just have a shorter layover in Frankfurt. I was able to check in and get all boarding passes, so I'm all set for my trip. We bought the ticket and used miles to upgrade to business class (I refuse to fly coach overseas...is that kind of diva-like?), and I didn't lose my business class seat to Chicago even though I had to be re-booked....which is good!
Of course I know that one should always confirm their flight before flying, but when you do, they just tell you that they would call you if there were any changes. So, what's the point? United didn't call me. I'm sure if I complain, they'll just tell me that Lufthansa should have notified me (my flight to Frankfurt is on Lufthansa). I guess, all's well that ends well.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
What should I pack for Chicago???
I just checked the weather forecast, and I saw that it's going to be in the 40s and fairly sunny in Chicago over the next ten days. I want to pack light, but my clothes are so big that even when I try to pack light I end up needing a big suitcase. I guess I'll just have to print my packing list and go from there.
My neighbor Andy thinks it's mildly insane that I have a packing list in my computer with everything I've packed on past trips. I think it's organization at its finest. Chicago's always a tough pack, however, because I do have access to washers and dryers and I do end up buying a lot of stuff. So, I don't need to bring a lot of stuff with me, but I do need to have room for bringing stuff back (i.e. the farting George Bush and Santa Claus dolls I ordered at Fartmart).
My neighbor Andy thinks it's mildly insane that I have a packing list in my computer with everything I've packed on past trips. I think it's organization at its finest. Chicago's always a tough pack, however, because I do have access to washers and dryers and I do end up buying a lot of stuff. So, I don't need to bring a lot of stuff with me, but I do need to have room for bringing stuff back (i.e. the farting George Bush and Santa Claus dolls I ordered at Fartmart).
Huh?
I was waiting for my yoga class to begin today, and in comes a substitute instructor. The regular yoga instructor conducts the class in high German which means I probably understand about 70% of what she says. Every now and then she blurts out something to me in English, I look around the room, and I see that I'm doing something different than the rest of the class. Anyway...the substitute instructor conducted the class in Swiss-German. Comprehension percentage dropped from about 70% to about 20%.
Zum Beispiel (for example):
Inhale in high German is einatmen. Exhale in high German is ausatmen.
In Swiss-German they are (and I'm writing these phonetically): ee-shnoofe and o-shnoofe
I mean....COME ON!!! They're not even close.
I managed, however, to make it through the class by keeping a close eye on the instructor and the rest of the class. At the end of the class, during the relaxation section, he went to each person and performed some kind of bizarre pressure point thing. I'm not really sure what he did on the other people, but on me he pushed down on my shoulders with incredible force, then he pulled my hands one at a time while sliding his other hand down my arm from the shoulder to the hand, and finally he did some crazy thing which I can only describe as pretending my spine was a keyboard and playing it like a piano. It was strange, but I did actually feel pretty refreshed after he did it. I hope he didn't mind that my shirt was SOAKED with sweat since I had used the eliptical trainer before the class.
After the class was over, I told him in German that I enjoyed the class. He started speaking to me in English. As it turns out, the guy has lived in Switzerland for many years, but he's originally from Cleveland.
Zum Beispiel (for example):
Inhale in high German is einatmen. Exhale in high German is ausatmen.
In Swiss-German they are (and I'm writing these phonetically): ee-shnoofe and o-shnoofe
I mean....COME ON!!! They're not even close.
I managed, however, to make it through the class by keeping a close eye on the instructor and the rest of the class. At the end of the class, during the relaxation section, he went to each person and performed some kind of bizarre pressure point thing. I'm not really sure what he did on the other people, but on me he pushed down on my shoulders with incredible force, then he pulled my hands one at a time while sliding his other hand down my arm from the shoulder to the hand, and finally he did some crazy thing which I can only describe as pretending my spine was a keyboard and playing it like a piano. It was strange, but I did actually feel pretty refreshed after he did it. I hope he didn't mind that my shirt was SOAKED with sweat since I had used the eliptical trainer before the class.
After the class was over, I told him in German that I enjoyed the class. He started speaking to me in English. As it turns out, the guy has lived in Switzerland for many years, but he's originally from Cleveland.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
I made a baby cry, and I helped a man with his belt...
...now that's accomplishing something.
Since I was kind of rushed (as usual) to make it to my 10:00 German lesson, I didn't have time to finish my breakfast at home. So, I took a banana along to eat on the tram. I took a seat in the lower tram car where the baby strollers are, and I sat right next to a stroller with a little 18 month (guessing...I have no idea really) boy who became fixated on my banana. He reached out for it, and I just shook my head no. He became more insistent, and his mom told him to let me eat my banana in peace. He became even more insistent, so I told him (in my best German) that it was mine and that he couldn't have it. This resulted in ear-piercing screaming which means that my German was good enough for the kid to understand. Either that, or I mistakenly told him without realizing it that I was going to kill him or something. Fortunately for the other twenty or so people on the tram, the lady and demon-child got off at the next stop.
Fast-forward about five hours later. I was at the gym, finished with my workout, and I was about to leave. Suddenly this really old man asked me if I could help him with his belt. At least that's what I think he said (he spoke in the Basel dialect and I'm lucky if I understand 15%). If not, too bad, because I helped him fasten his rather nice Bally belt. His hands were trembling, and I could see that whatever workout he had just completed had pretty much sapped him of most of his energy. I tightened his belt, he told me that it wasn't tight enough (again...that's what I think he said), I tightened it about three more notches, this seemed to satisfy him, he thanked me, and I was on my way. I have to give the guy credit. I mean, he had to be in his early 80s and he's at the gym working out.
What's your excuse?
Since I was kind of rushed (as usual) to make it to my 10:00 German lesson, I didn't have time to finish my breakfast at home. So, I took a banana along to eat on the tram. I took a seat in the lower tram car where the baby strollers are, and I sat right next to a stroller with a little 18 month (guessing...I have no idea really) boy who became fixated on my banana. He reached out for it, and I just shook my head no. He became more insistent, and his mom told him to let me eat my banana in peace. He became even more insistent, so I told him (in my best German) that it was mine and that he couldn't have it. This resulted in ear-piercing screaming which means that my German was good enough for the kid to understand. Either that, or I mistakenly told him without realizing it that I was going to kill him or something. Fortunately for the other twenty or so people on the tram, the lady and demon-child got off at the next stop.
Fast-forward about five hours later. I was at the gym, finished with my workout, and I was about to leave. Suddenly this really old man asked me if I could help him with his belt. At least that's what I think he said (he spoke in the Basel dialect and I'm lucky if I understand 15%). If not, too bad, because I helped him fasten his rather nice Bally belt. His hands were trembling, and I could see that whatever workout he had just completed had pretty much sapped him of most of his energy. I tightened his belt, he told me that it wasn't tight enough (again...that's what I think he said), I tightened it about three more notches, this seemed to satisfy him, he thanked me, and I was on my way. I have to give the guy credit. I mean, he had to be in his early 80s and he's at the gym working out.
What's your excuse?
Monday, November 08, 2004
I'm sore!
I went to the Kick Power Intro course at my gym on Friday afternoon, and I had my butt kicked. What a tough workout. After about five minutes, I began to worry that I couldn't make it through the whole class. I did...but it was really hard. I think it'll be some time before I'm ready for the non-intro class.
I tried to lift weights after the class, and that lasted for about ten minutes. The soreness was starting to set in, so I just stretched and then went and sat in the sauna for fifteen minutes. By Friday evening, I was getting pretty stiff. The soreness lasted throughout the weekend, and I'm still a little stiff this morning. Hopefully, I'll be able to make it through my yoga class this morning.
On Friday night, we just stayed at home and relaxed. Saturday was spent in town shopping, and then we went to Ronny and Geraldine's house around 7:45 for a nice dinner. Yesterday morning, we had to get up at 6:00 a.m. because Dominique had to go outside in a real hurry. I made the mistake of feeding her some stinky French cheese on Saturday evening, and I don't think it agreed with her. We went back to bed at 8:00 and slept until 11:00. At 1:30, we went over to Christian and Nimashini's house for a nice late lunch, and we were home by about 5:30. We pretty much just relaxed for the rest of the evening...watched a little football, ate a little pizza, Dave and Jane came over for some coffee...that's about it.
This morning, Mrs. TBF had to take the 6:46 a.m. train to Zürich Airport so she could catch a flight to Prague. She'll be there until Thursday evening. She made her train with one minute to spare, and that was only because traffic was lighter than usual. It's amazing how different we are when it comes to trains, planes, etc. Mrs. TBF feels that if the train leaves at 6:46, you need to be on the train by 6:45 and 59 seconds. I, on the other hand, would rather get there at 6:30 and just relax with a cup of coffee without the stress. I'm flying out of Basel Airport to Chicago this Friday morning, and Mrs. TBF is driving me to the airport. I'm not sure what time my flight leaves, but whatever time it is, I'll have to tell her that it's twenty minutes earlier than it actually is. Otherwise, I'll be doing the dreaded sprint through the airport.
I tried to lift weights after the class, and that lasted for about ten minutes. The soreness was starting to set in, so I just stretched and then went and sat in the sauna for fifteen minutes. By Friday evening, I was getting pretty stiff. The soreness lasted throughout the weekend, and I'm still a little stiff this morning. Hopefully, I'll be able to make it through my yoga class this morning.
On Friday night, we just stayed at home and relaxed. Saturday was spent in town shopping, and then we went to Ronny and Geraldine's house around 7:45 for a nice dinner. Yesterday morning, we had to get up at 6:00 a.m. because Dominique had to go outside in a real hurry. I made the mistake of feeding her some stinky French cheese on Saturday evening, and I don't think it agreed with her. We went back to bed at 8:00 and slept until 11:00. At 1:30, we went over to Christian and Nimashini's house for a nice late lunch, and we were home by about 5:30. We pretty much just relaxed for the rest of the evening...watched a little football, ate a little pizza, Dave and Jane came over for some coffee...that's about it.
This morning, Mrs. TBF had to take the 6:46 a.m. train to Zürich Airport so she could catch a flight to Prague. She'll be there until Thursday evening. She made her train with one minute to spare, and that was only because traffic was lighter than usual. It's amazing how different we are when it comes to trains, planes, etc. Mrs. TBF feels that if the train leaves at 6:46, you need to be on the train by 6:45 and 59 seconds. I, on the other hand, would rather get there at 6:30 and just relax with a cup of coffee without the stress. I'm flying out of Basel Airport to Chicago this Friday morning, and Mrs. TBF is driving me to the airport. I'm not sure what time my flight leaves, but whatever time it is, I'll have to tell her that it's twenty minutes earlier than it actually is. Otherwise, I'll be doing the dreaded sprint through the airport.
Friday, November 05, 2004
"The land of great water pressure...It's good to be back!"
That's what I just heard Mrs. TBF say as she was coming out of the shower. She just came back from Singapore and Kuala Lumpur this morning. She called me at 7:00 a.m. when she got on the train at Zürich Airport to let me know that she would arrive in Basel at 8:15. I hung up the phone, and I immediately fell into another coma. Fortunately, I woke up at 7:35, threw on some clothes, took Dominique out, powered down a cup of coffee, and made it to the train station at about 8:20....just when Mrs. TBF and our neighbor Steve (returning from a trip to India) were beginning to wonder where I was.
I went to bed at about 1:00 a.m. this morning, so I only managed to get about 6½ hours of sleep. Mrs. TBF just told me that she slept for TEN HOURS on the plane. It looks like I have some catching up to do.
I went to bed at about 1:00 a.m. this morning, so I only managed to get about 6½ hours of sleep. Mrs. TBF just told me that she slept for TEN HOURS on the plane. It looks like I have some catching up to do.
What are the chances???
Muse is one of my favorite bands. Last night, on a whim, I decided to check out their website. And, what did I find? I found out that they're going to be playing in Chicago at the Riviera Theatre on Saturday, November 13th...while I'm in Chicago. What are the chances of that happening?!?!? I dragged Mrs. TBF with me to see them in Wettingen, Switzerland last November, and now I have a chance to go see them again one year later. If I have to go alone, I'll do so. However, I'd prefer to go with somebody. So, if anybody I know in Chicago wants to go see a totally kick-ass band a week from tomorrow...let me know!
I also saw that the Finnish "Love Metal" band called HIM is also playing at the Riviera the following Saturday. Unfortunately, my return flight to Switzerland leaves Chicago on Friday the 19th. I'll miss them by one day! Perskkatti!!!!!. Although seeing both bands in one week would probably be too much for a TBF in his 40s to handle.
I also saw that the Finnish "Love Metal" band called HIM is also playing at the Riviera the following Saturday. Unfortunately, my return flight to Switzerland leaves Chicago on Friday the 19th. I'll miss them by one day! Perskkatti!!!!!. Although seeing both bands in one week would probably be too much for a TBF in his 40s to handle.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Strange sightings at the gym...
I forgot to mention that I saw three strange things in the locker room at my gym yesterday.
First, when I arrived, I saw a man grab ONE paper towel from the dispenser and proceed to stand on it while he was getting dressed after his workout. He would stand on the paper towel balancing on one foot, put one leg into his pants, switch feet, etc., etc. He actually fell off the paper towel at one point and really seemed ticked off about the fact that his bare foot touched the locker room floor. I'd say this is a little bit obsessive. The Swiss are really into not producing excess garbage. This had to be his motive combined with an unfounded fear of getting athletes foot. I say unfounded because the cleaning lady comes in and cleans the locker room floor about every thirty minutes. I'd say that fungus has about a .0001% chance of surviving on that floor for more than a couple of seconds. Good God...just use an extra paper towel, or better yet, just stand on the floor with your bare feet.
Second crazy thing...
I saw a man using one of the blow dryers to blow dry his feet. He sat on the bench with his naked butt touching the wood and his bare feet touching the floor, and he sat there for about two minutes blow drying his feet. Does this strike anybody else as a bit strange? I understand why he wants to dry his feet well, but one guy is standing on a paper towel because he doesn't want his bare foot to touch the floor, and another guy has his naked butt on the bench and bare feet on the floor. Maybe they could have a conversation and agree on some kind of compromise.
Third...
After my workout as I was getting dressed, I noticed this young guy primping his hair for about five minutes. I am not exaggerating. This guy was teasing his streaked hair for no less than five minutes. His hair kind of made him look like he belonged in Jefferson Starship circa 1985. He kept pulling at it, and putting a little more gel in it, and turning his head from side to side while looking in the mirror, all the while not changing the look of his hair in any way whatsoever. It really made me glad that I shave my head - it's definitely easier and much less time consuming. I kind of watched him out of the corner of my eye, and I would have watched him longer to see what the end result was going to be, but I noticed that I was dressed and I had no real reason to be sitting there anymore. I didn't want him to realize I was watching him since I recently read in FHM magazine that Switzerland is the gayest country in Europe, and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. So, I had no choice but to leave. Now that I think about it, I should have waited in the cafe to see how much longer he stayed in that locker room.
Well, there you have it - yesterday's trilogy of weird. I'd have to say that it was an appropriate precursor for another weird Swiss male phenomenon that usually begins around this time of year: the full-body, five-minute application of body lotion after the workout and shower. But, perhaps, I'll save that for another time.
First, when I arrived, I saw a man grab ONE paper towel from the dispenser and proceed to stand on it while he was getting dressed after his workout. He would stand on the paper towel balancing on one foot, put one leg into his pants, switch feet, etc., etc. He actually fell off the paper towel at one point and really seemed ticked off about the fact that his bare foot touched the locker room floor. I'd say this is a little bit obsessive. The Swiss are really into not producing excess garbage. This had to be his motive combined with an unfounded fear of getting athletes foot. I say unfounded because the cleaning lady comes in and cleans the locker room floor about every thirty minutes. I'd say that fungus has about a .0001% chance of surviving on that floor for more than a couple of seconds. Good God...just use an extra paper towel, or better yet, just stand on the floor with your bare feet.
Second crazy thing...
I saw a man using one of the blow dryers to blow dry his feet. He sat on the bench with his naked butt touching the wood and his bare feet touching the floor, and he sat there for about two minutes blow drying his feet. Does this strike anybody else as a bit strange? I understand why he wants to dry his feet well, but one guy is standing on a paper towel because he doesn't want his bare foot to touch the floor, and another guy has his naked butt on the bench and bare feet on the floor. Maybe they could have a conversation and agree on some kind of compromise.
Third...
After my workout as I was getting dressed, I noticed this young guy primping his hair for about five minutes. I am not exaggerating. This guy was teasing his streaked hair for no less than five minutes. His hair kind of made him look like he belonged in Jefferson Starship circa 1985. He kept pulling at it, and putting a little more gel in it, and turning his head from side to side while looking in the mirror, all the while not changing the look of his hair in any way whatsoever. It really made me glad that I shave my head - it's definitely easier and much less time consuming. I kind of watched him out of the corner of my eye, and I would have watched him longer to see what the end result was going to be, but I noticed that I was dressed and I had no real reason to be sitting there anymore. I didn't want him to realize I was watching him since I recently read in FHM magazine that Switzerland is the gayest country in Europe, and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. So, I had no choice but to leave. Now that I think about it, I should have waited in the cafe to see how much longer he stayed in that locker room.
Well, there you have it - yesterday's trilogy of weird. I'd have to say that it was an appropriate precursor for another weird Swiss male phenomenon that usually begins around this time of year: the full-body, five-minute application of body lotion after the workout and shower. But, perhaps, I'll save that for another time.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Hey....my guy didn't win!
I woke up at 9:25 this morning, and after feeding King, making myself a cup of coffee, and walking Dominique, I switched on Fox's Unfair and Unbalanced News and found no mention of my guy - Ralph Nader. So, I had to switch to CNN to find out that he was in third place with only 1% of the vote. Oh well, I guess there's always 2008! He'll probably be running against Jeb Bush and Hillary Clinton.
When I'd tell people I was for Nader, I'm sure everybody (at least those who knew who he was) thought I was kidding. But, I wasn't. If I were allowed to vote (Canadian citizen...not a convicted felon), I would have voted for Nader. I looked at a comparison of the candidates on the top ten election issues, and I agreed with Nader on 8, Kerry on 5, and Bush on 1. Plus I agree with Nader that the two party oligopoly must end! And furthermore, am I the only person who thinks that the electoral college is stupid? Somebody please educate me as to why this is still a good thing in the 21st century!
I guess it's not a total loss. Four more years of Bush is a positive thing for the pharmaceutical industry, and that's a good thing for Mrs. TBF and a lot of our friends. Bush just signed a tax cut that lowers taxes for "richer expats" as the International Herald Tribune called us, and I'm sure there will be more tax cuts that benefit higher income earners far more than the middle class. The value of the U.S. dollar will probably continue to plummet, and that means that our wire transfers will buy even more U.S. dollars (currently 46% more than when we moved here in October, 2000).
So, I'm going to look at everything through rose-colored glasses and have a positive mental attitude. Gotta go...I have to make a wire transfer to the U.S. so I have some of those cheap U.S. dollars waiting for me in my account when I arrive in Chicago in nine days!
I guess it was a good day afterall. Thanks for asking!
When I'd tell people I was for Nader, I'm sure everybody (at least those who knew who he was) thought I was kidding. But, I wasn't. If I were allowed to vote (Canadian citizen...not a convicted felon), I would have voted for Nader. I looked at a comparison of the candidates on the top ten election issues, and I agreed with Nader on 8, Kerry on 5, and Bush on 1. Plus I agree with Nader that the two party oligopoly must end! And furthermore, am I the only person who thinks that the electoral college is stupid? Somebody please educate me as to why this is still a good thing in the 21st century!
I guess it's not a total loss. Four more years of Bush is a positive thing for the pharmaceutical industry, and that's a good thing for Mrs. TBF and a lot of our friends. Bush just signed a tax cut that lowers taxes for "richer expats" as the International Herald Tribune called us, and I'm sure there will be more tax cuts that benefit higher income earners far more than the middle class. The value of the U.S. dollar will probably continue to plummet, and that means that our wire transfers will buy even more U.S. dollars (currently 46% more than when we moved here in October, 2000).
So, I'm going to look at everything through rose-colored glasses and have a positive mental attitude. Gotta go...I have to make a wire transfer to the U.S. so I have some of those cheap U.S. dollars waiting for me in my account when I arrive in Chicago in nine days!
I guess it was a good day afterall. Thanks for asking!
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
It's all good!
At least it was today. I managed to wake up in time for my 10:00 a.m. German lesson. It's funny to think that 1,500+ days ago I was waking up at 5:30 a.m. so that I could make it to the office for 7:30 a.m. Now, making it to a 10:00 a.m. German lesson that's 5 km. away is a challenge. Anyway, I had a good German lesson! Carmen (my teacher) was upbeat as usual, and I left the lesson with a feeling that I had "done good!"
After the lesson, I took the tram from my German school to my gym...even though it's less than a five minute walk. I mean, come on, I needed to save my energy for my workout. And...a good workout it was! Today was my full workout with weights plus thirty minutes on the eliptical trainer. After working up a good sweat, I went downstairs to the spa and had a good , relaxing sauna.
After the gym, I walked over to the train station and picked up a Laugensandwich mit Lachs und Selleriesalat. It was damn good! I took the tram to the grocery store, picked up a couple of things, came home, had a good walk with Dominique, and then took a good twenty-minute nap.
Mrs. TBF called from Kuala Lumpur to tell me that she had had a good flight from Singapore, and that she was about to settle down to a good night's sleep (KL is a good seven hours ahead of Switzerland).
I (along with Dominique and King) enjoyed a good dinner of penne with cilantro pesto and chicken, gave Dominique a good handful of after-dinner treats, and now I'm enjoying a good cup of coffee while writing in my blog.
Pretty soon, we'll be settling down for a good night's sleep. The first thing I'll do when I wake up in the morning is turn on CNN to find out who won the U.S. presidential election.
I hope the results are good!
After the lesson, I took the tram from my German school to my gym...even though it's less than a five minute walk. I mean, come on, I needed to save my energy for my workout. And...a good workout it was! Today was my full workout with weights plus thirty minutes on the eliptical trainer. After working up a good sweat, I went downstairs to the spa and had a good , relaxing sauna.
After the gym, I walked over to the train station and picked up a Laugensandwich mit Lachs und Selleriesalat. It was damn good! I took the tram to the grocery store, picked up a couple of things, came home, had a good walk with Dominique, and then took a good twenty-minute nap.
Mrs. TBF called from Kuala Lumpur to tell me that she had had a good flight from Singapore, and that she was about to settle down to a good night's sleep (KL is a good seven hours ahead of Switzerland).
I (along with Dominique and King) enjoyed a good dinner of penne with cilantro pesto and chicken, gave Dominique a good handful of after-dinner treats, and now I'm enjoying a good cup of coffee while writing in my blog.
Pretty soon, we'll be settling down for a good night's sleep. The first thing I'll do when I wake up in the morning is turn on CNN to find out who won the U.S. presidential election.
I hope the results are good!
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