4 October 2009 - Banking in the Bundesland, Part 2

["Money (that's what I want)" by The Flying Lizards.]

In our first installment of Banking in the Bundesland, I mentioned some of the unique joys and frustrations of banking here while still dealing with Citibank in the U.S. Unfortunately, since then I have had occasion to discover firsthand that both systems are plagued with some of the same types of fraud.

I have a MasterCard from Commerzbank. I don't use it much at all here -- just for things that I buy online like goodies from Amazon.de or airline tickets. I used it a bit more when I was in the U.S. in late July/early August because, among other things, so many things in the US are value-priced, particularly when purchased with the strong Euro. Well, "value-priced" is a relative term if one doesn't consider all the, um, "hidden costs" and risks when making a transaction these days.

Fast forward to about a month ago when I had the overwhelming urge to purchase a keyboard, as described in a separate blog. I wasn't sure how much a keyboard might cost these days, so I logged into Commerzbank online banking to check what the available balance was in my current account (the one that is kind of like checking, except we don't have checks here). There is a helpful Summary of Accounts screen where I caught the balance of my current account and was about to navigate away from the page when I did a double-take at the summary for my credit card. Which summary showed a balance of over €9,000!!! Uhhhh..... I clicked through and was rather astonished at what I saw -- myriad charges all incurred in Calgary, Canada. I, of course, had not been in Canada and have never been to Calgary.

So then comes the fun part of trying to figure out how to straighten this mess out. First step was to get the credit card shut off immediately. Tricky part is that, unlike a US credit card, there is no number on the back of the credit card to call. Hmmm.... Looked around online and also didn't see a number to call (and it may not surprise you that unlike the US, many customer service numbers here do not operate 24/7). So I did what I often do in confusing situations -- I called my neighbors. They were able to come up with a number that I called and, fortunately, the guy spoke English. He cut off the credit card but said that I would need to go to my local branch to contest the charges.

That particular Monday I had stayed home to work and rest a bit as I was feeling rather under the weather. In late afternoon, I remembered that I was supposed to go to "my" branch of the bank to settle the credit card matter, so I tried to get myself put together enough to go down there. I figured that it would be a rather quick visit and I felt good enough to at least do that. Alas, it was not a quick trip.

The banks here, or at least this branch, are not like most US banks. There are no tellers up in front. Instead, once you pass by the ATMs and statement printing machines in the foyer, there are two regular desks. I approached the first one and asked if she spoke English. Nope. So I attempted to explain the situation in German. It was not easy. She asked for verification that this particular branch was my home branch (perhaps in an attempt to pawn the English-speaker off on some other branch) and then finally called for the person at the other desk to assist me.

This other individual, Linda, is the one who was assigned to me when I opened my account, apparently, though I had not met her in person. She is rather young, which I thought might increase the chances that she spoke English. Unfortunately, she didn't seem too comfortable speaking English, either, but I restated in German the problem, she logged into my account and quickly saw the problem I was describing.

She had to print out a claim form (which was in English and German, thankfully) for each of the 20+ charges from Canada. As she was printing out those forms, I did some research on the BlackBerry's limited browser to try and see if I could figure out what some of the vendors were. The ones like McDonald's and Wal-Mart and the myriad gas stations didn't require explanation, but some others were less straightforward. Here are a few highlights of the great week someone had with my credit card. Sounds like a good time -- wish I could have been there to see this in action.

Two visits to a fur store - €3,500
Four visits to a store that appears to be a photography equipment shop - €4,000
Various shoe stores - €700
Fine dining - €400

Seeing a well-heeled photographer out on the town combating the Canadian winter with a fur or two - priceless.

It's not clear what, exactly, happened, but the bank suspects that while I was in the US, the information on my credit card's magnetic strip was recorded while it was swiped. Someone then took that information and wrote it to a new, blank card, and then sold or used the card. While it's pretty easy to see from charges on my current account that I was indeed in Germany during the time these charges were made and a quick review of the signatures from Canada will undoubtedly not match mine given the odd way my first name is spelled, it nevertheless will take at least four weeks for this to be resolved.

In the meantime, I understood from Linda that I would not be charged for the disputed items. Um, wrong. I looked at my current account balance the other day and the entire amount of the credit card balance had been settled against my current account, leaving me with a negative balance. Even though apparently you are allowed to have a negative balance here up to your limit, I am not pleased as this makes me feel like some sort of deadbeat. I am even less pleased that my emails questioning this settlement have not been returned. Let's hope that there is no need for me to create a Part 3 of this series....

27 September 2009 - What's more German than an international auto show?

[Rihanna, "Shut Up and Drive."]

Frankfurt is the host of the International Auto Show. THE auto show. I have always enjoyed the Chicago Auto Show, but this is in an entirely different class and spread across multiple buildings. So having a complimentary ticket courtesy of my boss and a colleague who was interested in going was a bonus.

Now, the cars were good, but I think the ways that the different companies market them is nearly as interesting. In particular, the way in which women are used in the selling of cars fascinates me. I mean, we've all seen the pictures from past auto shows of scantily clad women "demonstrating" the features of the cars. But that's in the past, right, and women are valued for their knowledge of cars, right? Well.... Read on for some highlights by some of the brands (oddly enough, no sign of Honda, Nissan or Mitsubishi at the show) and these attendants who I will refer to simply as the ladies.

Kia - I find the Soul quite charming, including its external optical features that can be customized, not unlike some of the Mini options.

Volvo - I thought the motorized rear hatch of the XC60 was impressively quiet. Not a bad ride. Volvo also offered a free USB thumb drive that you could plug in and try to win. We lost. The booth was at least partially staffed by Swedes, which I thought was quite genuine.

Mazda - An excellent selection of Preuscher Blue cars on display. The ladies were kind enough to take photos of attendees in the MX-5 with an impressive 12-second hardtop retraction. Said ladies were wearing purple dresses with 80s-era thick black belts.

Suzuki - Underwhelming cars, but the ladies' black denimish dresses with white off-set racing stripe worn with slouch legwarmers over Converse All-Stars was interesting. The dresses would match the Kia Soul.

Renault - Interesting concept cars -- one looked like a Mac or an iPod that could be driven, another looked like a fly getting ready to take off. The ladies in the futuristic area looked like they were standing by for a Korean Air interview or were resting in between shifts on the USS Enterprise spa -- flowing white pants and eggshell blue smocks. Gotta wonder who wants to be the guy at Renault whose job is cleaning the black scuff marks on their white matte floor. He seemed pretty busy.

Dacia - No stereo included? Seriously?

Ford - Keyless non-entry for energy car (it was locked) with right-side steering -- weird thing to have in Germany. Dresses of the ladies were somewhat ugly and seemed difficult to put on. Not that we tried. Ford Ka has seating that can be customized (must be for the younger generation that adds colored covers to their phones and all), including a tattoo style imprint. Mondeo still seems to have faux wood finishes -- some things never change.

Lamborghini - Like most of the high-end brands, you can't approach the vehicles. There were too many people snapping pictures to see if there were ladies on hand.

Bentley - A laminated wooden floor with three cars, no access, and the sales guys just standing there. Weird. There is a Bentley Collection Shop that appears to be accessible to mere mortals.

Audi - The Audi shop was disappointing. I'm thinking they need a woman's ring with the four interlocking Audi rings. I am disturbed by the number of orange/rust-colored Audis that were on display in the area. I still don't "get" the A5 sportback. They had a metallic/chromy (not sure if it was polished aluminum or what) R8 that looked rather blingy but reminded me a bit of a shinier Back to the Future car. The ladies (and men) were generally wearing muted blacks, gray and white. One exception was the lady in the limited-access area with the e-tron concept car and R8 cabrio who were more true to the typical auto show mold (very short dresses and the high heels), but they were not displayed on the hoods of the vehicles themselves. Audi Bank was there in case you couldn't wait another second to have an Audi. Alas, the "International Customer Services" area was unable to hook me up with an English language owners manual for Hudson (my local dealer has still failed to follow through on this).

Seat - The ladies were wearing a form-fitting bizarre black and white patterned dress worn with black hosiery. Not particularly flattering but certainly distinctive. The cars had interesting plastic textures - like the pattern I would associate with carbon fiber, but in plastic. Lots of overhead storage. The flip down trays in the back seat (no pun intended) are handy and with cupholders built in. It is unclear whether they must be stowed for takeoff. From a design perspective, I like the above rear seat latches that are sculpted out of the rear window panel rather than being within the metal of the door below the window.

VW - Eos available in beautiful blue GT. I was not aware that the Scirocco is back.... The ladies were wearing basic black skirts and crisp white shirts. No-nonsense and professional.

Skoda - Great mascot, as evidenced by his willingness to hold the Sarah Palin action figure for a photo (see Facebook album of Sarah for the latest). The uniforms of the ladies were interesting -- charcoal skirt, lime green shirt and silverish vest thing - with lime green belt. Hmmm.... The exhibit did have a kind of slot machine game where you pull a lever and win -- in my case, a parkschein, which I have been wanting (you put it in your window to indicate when you parked in the parking space so the meter reader can tell whether you have overstayed the limit -- love the honor system).

All of these brands and others were from just the first two halls we visited. En route to the next stop, we decided to stop off at a hall that boasted, among other things, a "Ladies Corner." Well, that immediately had me thinking I would see Tim Meadows, the Ladies Man from Saturday Night Live there, or at least some quick manicures, moisturizer samples, or mazybe even a chair massage. So we rushed on over. I cannot begin to tell you how disappointing the reality was. There was literally a woman there dressed up as a cleaning lady complete with a bandanna tied around her head with a bin full of cleaning supplies and some sort of coupon for something. There was also a display of GPS devices. What, like women don't know how to drive and only clean? Ugh. So on to the next hall.

Maserati - One of their cars was a beautiful blue (of course!) color. The friend who went with me, codename D-D, loves Maserati and sweet-talked the guy at the rope to let her in and even convinced him to take a picture of her in the convertible. Nice work!

Lancia - The theme of the exhibit revolved around chalkboards and chalk drawings. I suppose that is the connection between the ladies being dressed as, more or less, naughty school girls -- short skirts, white shirts, a sagging black tie, and tights just above the knee. Perhaps not surprising that the cars didn't appeal to me either.

Fiat - Fiat was located next to Lancia and continued the youthful theme, but did so in a much more innocent way. The background of their area was composed of whimsical pastel children's drawings (drawn in a smaller scale by real children as shown in videos -- no child labor seems to have been involved in the building of the large scale actual background). They also had astroturf areas with flower-shaped tables for even more whimsy. The ladies did seem somewhat related to the Lancia ladies, but a bit more classy I suppose - short plaid skirts and vests and red Converse All-Stars. The cars are small but with character. And I give them high marks for the items in their store that are directed towards women -- including a really cute but overpriced little purse that looks like the front of a Fiat on one side and the back of a Fiat on the other side.

Alfa Romeo - Continuing the youthful example of Lancia and Fiat, Alfa Romeo's exhibit was made out of giant sized creations from the erector set that I remember my brother playing with as a kid building cranes and stuff. Alas, they did not have many actual cars to sit in, so we moved on quickly.

Hyundai - I can only describe Hyundai as the "Hooters" of the IAA. They literally had a woman sitting in a car on a rotating pedestal looking pretty and showing off long legs. It's a HYUNDAI for crying out loud! Uniform? Satiny shorts, glittery halter top, heels, and very blonde. I think I saw Heidi with her long braids..... In the sports section, it was slightly better with black jeans and a white blingy halter top and more sensible shoes. I did like their Blue Will concept car with a steering wheel that seems more like a yoke on an airplane.

Abarth - I had not heard of them before. It is apparently another Italian company and has some relation to racing. Uniforms? Heeled red leather boots, white tights, and a short knit red and white dress/smock of some sort that kind of looks like a racing flag.

Porsche - Handsome cars, often in nice blues, but many were locked. All reps were male with a matching tie and pocket square. There were a few ladies. Their job was apparently to just look pretty as they were not even issued name tags!! However, a quick conversation with one of them indicated they actually know a great deal about the cars, features, prices, etc. They were wearing somewhat simple linen dresses with a scarf matching the ties of the guys, with the effect of making them look like flight attendants (not to be confused with Renault).

Artega - Beautiful vehicles. Wish they weren't cut off from the masses.

Toyota - A very white space with nearly all of the cars in the front section being white. Additionall, the ladies were wearing very nice looking white suits with a crisp white blouse with tiny red stripes and a sport shoe that looks like it would actually be comfortable for spending hours on one's feet. We think overall these were the best and most professional ensembles we saw the ladies of the IAA wearing.

Saab - Very few cars in their area and many were locked. They're just Saabs.... Casual uniform for the ladies - black jeans, gray jacket, reddish t-shirt.

Mini - Mini is celebrating 50 years complete with DJ and a sparkling water bar (the Mini Lounge). Attire was typically youthful for the brand - jeans and a whitish t-shirt for both men and women.

BMW - The largest digs in the show must belong to BMW. Huge area. They had an interesting Vision concept car, but it was difficult to get close to it was it was near the "fashion show" of vehicles driven around on the indoor track. All but the ladies standing by the concept car are wearing kind of ugly taupe pant suits belted with a dark lavendar color. Not nearly so nice as Toyota.

Rolls Royce - The hideously painted Ghost model has suicide doors. Haven't seen that on a car in ages. The cars were, of course, inaccessible to the masses, but I give RR snaps for having the most normal looking woman among the attendants. It was refreshing, though some leggy blondes were also loitering at the gate to the VIP lounge. Otherwise, a bunch of guys in ties standing around.

Benz - Their space was, like BMWs, a tri-level structure. They also had an interesting interior structure covered in an interesting white fabric that could be used for projection and it also apparently served as an environmental control. However, they should consider hiring the floor guy from Renault as their white floors were terribly scuffed. Simple uniforms - dark skirts, white blouses, and a scarf kind of like BMW. Plastic name tags for both men and women struck me as tacky, particularly as compared with the other major players. Lots of security.

So that's pretty much it. Can't wait to head back next year!

13 September 2009 - Co-existence of Politics and Music

["I Don't Recall" from Melissa Dunphy's Gonzales Cantata.]

Many of you are aware of the importance of music in my life. While I really enjoyed performing back in my high school and university years, in recent years it has been a more passive experience of attending the performances of others (how I miss those season tickets to the Lyric Opera and the Symphony Center Jazz Series in Chicago). But every once in a while I would be moved to sit down and play the piano or, in the more rare cases, drag out Arthur (somehow I knew you wouldn't be surprised that I named my clarinet, a handsome Buffet R-13b, Arthur deriving from R-thir(teen)).

I have a Yamaha Clavinova keyboard that is probably about 10 years ago but that still served my purposes well. Good piano sound and feeling, never needs tuning, and I can play it as loud as I want whenever because it has a headphone output option. All good. Except that it uses US power current, so not a good idea to bring it over here and my Mom is now enjoying it.

I thought this wouldn't be a big deal, but every once in a while I just get the desire to go play the piano and then realize that I don't have one here. And last weekend I realized that I cannot live for four years without the ability to create music (I don't consider my harmonica efforts to be a creative effort that would qualify as music, alas). So I went online and identified a piano store called Stollenwerk (www.pianostollenwerk.de, if you're in the market or if you want to see some really cool external tile/brick work) that carries Yamahas and drove over there. While they do carry Yamaha, they only carry acoustic pianos. The guy I was talking with was very friendly and helpful, though, and even introduced me to the concept of the "silent" piano from Yamaha -- an acoustic piano that also has the ability to port the music through headphones. Alas, I can't imagine trying to move a piano back to the US. The guy was nice enough to refer me to a place called Schmidt Music that is just up the road from my local Hornbach hardware store, but which somehow I had not seen before.

I was, to put it mildly, overwhelmed by the options at Schmidt and had no idea where to start. And a quick look made it clear that electronic pianos/keyboards have come a long way in the last 10 years. More than a few of the Yamahas had what I can only describe as a cockpit-like dashboard, including a LCD screen that's larger than the one on my first laptop. Given that I have no intention of becoming neither DJ Jazzy Preuscher while I am over here nor taking up a musical composition career, I think I'm safer with a more moderate model. Which models are still quite impressive.

So, I have now purchased a new Yamaha, though it will not be delivered for a couple of weeks. Which is good, since I have to figure out where to put it in my small-by-American-standards apartment.

But back to the more passive ways in which I enjoy music. Since my arrival here, I have yet to actually attend a formal musical performance, but given the number of posters I have seen for some great sounding fare, I am excited about the possibilities here. First, I have to figure out how to buy tickets in advance! Until then, I live vicariously through iTunes. This applies to both classical music (favorite recent purchases are the albums "Appalachia Walz" with Edgar Meyer, Mark O'Connor and Yo-Yo Ma, "Humoresque" by Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg) as well as pop (where new favorites include "Electric Arguments" by The Fireman (aka Sir Paul McCartney), "Bible Belt" by Diane Birch, "It's Not Me, It's You" by Lily Allen, and a few more Lady GaGa singles than I should probably admit).

However, that said, let me be clear that I think the new iTunes interface STINKS! I cannot find a way to browse new classical releases to save my soul. Do they not want to sell music? Because let's be honest, pushing Jay-Z, The Doors and a deluxe version of the Norah Jones album I already have is not making me want to linger on their site. It just makes me angry.

Not enough to make me totally cut myself off from the other audio delight I receive through iTunes. Podcasts. Political/news podcasts. I may be on the other side of the pond, but I am still quite interested in the politics and related insanity going on in the U.S. So I download podcasts, copy them to an SD Card and then pop that card into Hudson and listen to the podcasts as I drive around. I started out with the Sunday morning talk shows (Meet the Press, Face the Nation, This Week, and even Fox News Sunday) as well as Washington Week from Friday nights. But then I kept seeing references from one of my favorite Twitterers (yes, the same one who introduced me to Massweiler) about Rachel Maddow, so I began following that, too. Maddow requires a bit more committment as it is a nightly show which somehow causes me to not get through all the Sunday shows before the next show (not surprisingly, Fox News is often the victim). But the show amuses me, particularly with some of its Moments of Geek.

Which brings me to my newest source of classical music. (No, there's not a paragraph missing in there. The Rachel Maddow Show has introduced me to new music. Something not even the might iTunes itself can apparently do anymore.) Political music. No, I'm not talking about the "music to my ears" of politics in action (because there is simply no harmony in that these days). But the simple joys of setting politics to music.

About two weeks ago, Maddow mentioned on her show the Gonzales Cantata (www.gonzalescantata.com). Yes, Alberto Gonzales. No, he wasn't singing himself as his predecessor is so famous for (though who didn't find "Let the Eagle Soar" wildly fascinating??!). Rather, it is written by a young Australian composer, Melissa Dunphy, and is based on the testimony of Alberto Gonzales to the Senate Judiciary Committee. In that particular hearing, all of the major parties involved were male, with the exception of Dianne Feinstein (I think). Apparently it is easier to get a lot of good sopranos to perform a cantata than it is to hire all men and one woman, all gender roles have been reversed. So imagine the joy of listening to "I don't recall" being sung by a soprano. Simply delightful. The tracks can be listened to on the website (as well as, sigh, downloaded from iTunes). The cantata's music itself (or perhaps it was just a bad performance) leaves a bit to be desired at times, but the overall work remains amusing and compelling listening.

I thought this must be the only political classical performance available, but I was wrong. Last week Maddow had an update on the Moment of Geek about two other such works. The first is a John Adam's opera, "Nixon in China" (video of Act 1, Scene 1 is available on YouTube, and even features Air Force One (pre 747 days) as part of the scene). And then there is "Three Rumsfeld Songs" by Phil Kline (downloadable from bangonacan.org). I am so hooked.

5 September 2009 - Kindling

I don't think that I have taken the opportunity to explain the beauty of my simple first generation Amazon Kindle. Since the device is central to this blog, allow me to explain briefly the device and my potentially irrational dependence and affection for the little slab of whitish plastic and not quite liquid crystal screen.

For those not familiar with the Kindle, it is an electronic book reader. Sony had one first but Amazon added several technologies that were absent from the Sony reader and coupled it with a direct link to the Amazon book distribution mechanism. It is larger than the small paperbacks but smaller than hardcovers. I think that Amazon claims that it can hold about 120 books on the device without using additional memory. It can also host audio books (but what's the point, really, as an audible book would be much better on an iPod). It has an onboard dictionary so you can highlight a line of text and it will look up the key words on that line. It has a very basic web browser. You can add notes and bookmarks, of course, and can even have some clips emailed to you. There are also about 5 different font sizes, so you can increase them when you're, for example, on the treadmill.

The device uses a technology called electronic ink that is markedly (no pun intended) different from the display of a regular computer screen etc. The screen is not backlit, so it can be read outside in direct sunlight. This electronic ink technology also significantly increases the battery life. I have found that I can be reading all day on vacation and not have to charge more than overnight, which is pretty good. Not to mention that when I go on vacation I don't have to figure out which books to take and leave behind based on how far I am and what I might want to read while on holiday.....

The coolest feature by far, though, is that books are downloaded wirelessly to the device within about a minute of ordering them. And you can browse the Kindle store of books on Amazon wirelessly on the device, which device is linked to your Amazon.com one-click settings. So I could literally be on the beach, ask you what you're reading, look it up and download it all within about a minute.

All this, plus the books are less expensive than the printed versions and you save the environment. When I lived in the US, I found it particularly nice for newspapers. Not only were the Kindle versions less expensive (I paid $27.99 per month for Saturday and Sunday home delivery of the NY Times, but could get it electronically every day on the Kindle for only $12.99 or so), but I received delivery wherever I was and never had to worry about stop notices for the newspaper or dealing with unread papers upon my return.

So with that as background, you can imagine how I would love this device -- cheaper, electronic, less baggage space. What's not to like? Well, there is one small drawback. Amazon chose to partner with Sprint for electronic delivery. Problem is, Sprint doesn't have a global network. So essentially you can only get electronic delivery within the continental United States. Hmmm.... That does not include Germany, in case you were wondering.

So there is a backstop measure. You can download content to your computer (as you would have to do with a Sony in any event, at least until their newest offering) and then push it to you Kindle. Not ideal, but in a country where English language books are not easy to come across, still a good deal. (And especially when dollars are so cheap in Euros!)

So the Kindle has been my cheap and easy connection to US political and other reading since I arrived. Until its untimely freeze this past freeze. It has a sort of "mouse" and related pointer area within the device and said device became nonfunctional on Friday. I tried restarting and even resetting the device, but to no avail. The main screen looked fine, but I was unable to use the "mouse" to select a book, so I was unable to read anything. Ruh roh.

Yesterday, I sent a message to the Amazon Kindle online help line and they asked me to call them, which I did. The dude, Blake (seriouslz?), was nice enough but, after suggesting that I reset the device (as if I hadn't thought of that before) declared the device inoperable and out of warranty. But, out of the goodness of his heart, he would be able to give me a credit towards the purchase of a new device. Except they could not ship said new device to Germany. I declined.

This morning, I tried a few other things that I thought might revive the Kindle (oddly, I haven't given it an individual name, which will register as odd with those who have read the rest of this blog, ala Bonnie, Hudson, etc.). Alas, none of them worked. So I did the thing I do when I am most frustrated with my laptop. I pulled the power plug and yanked the battery. After a long wake-up, the Kindle is just fine. No issues. New Kindle? I don't think so, "Blake."

23 August 20009 - Maßweiler

I felt the need the hit the open road for a few hours today and have begun a list of places to visit that are within just an hour or two of Frankfurt. One such place is the town (though perhaps village would be a better word) of Maßweiler.

Maßweiler is a village in an agriculture area in what I would call southwest Germany. (Wikipedia, on the other hand, notes that it is a "municipality in Südwestpfaltz district, in Rhinland-Palatinate, western Germany." Oddly enough, that is all Wikipedia has to say about Maßweiler.) Anyway, it is about 100 miles from Frankfurt, which, due to small roads the last 20 minutes or so (twisting, turning, narrow roads, I might add -- Hudson was in his element), took a little over 90 minutes. (I suppose it is only fair to note that Hudson was once again clocked at over 200 kph at several points throughout the autobahn stretches. Delightful day of driving.)

So what would draw me to this spot other than the search for a great driving road and the need to fill my midwestern lungs with fresh country air? Twitter. Yeah, that's right, Twitter. Long story, but someone I met on Twitter noted, when she learned I was living in Germany, that she had lived in Maßweiler for a few years during the 60s. She noted that the town has some caves that had been used by the Americans after World War II to store nuclear warheads. She described it as a quiet agricultural town that might be a good drive someday. And she was absolutely right.

I asked Hudson to take me to the city center, which was about, oh, 30-45 seconds into my 30 kph drive into the city. I didn't spot the usual city center types of things like a post office or even a store. I continued on and found a large church and another building that looked like it might be something but seemed to be described as a parking garage. I continued on just driving around randomly since there didn't really seem to be a good place to park and then just wander around on foot. I continued and then happened upon a cemetary. What better way to learn about a town than through its cemetary.

I don't say that because I'm a morbid person or anything, just that in many US cemetaries you can get an idea who the big families are, a feel for particular difficult times for the town (e.g. disasters, wars, or diseases that seem to cause a lot of deaths in a relatively short period of town), as well as about the people based on what they inscribe on the tombstones.

Well, this cemetary was a bit different than what I am used to. For starters, it seems to be a relatively new cemetary with tombstones primarily dating from the 70s and on. I didn't find a single old stone that was so weathered that you could no longer read the stone. To the contrary, each headstone (which is an understatement as I will explain shortly) seemed to be in very pristine condition in a shiny, conditioned marble with inscriptions seemingly added to the stones rather than being engraved into the stone itself. And they were primarily just names and dates of birth and death, rather than any inscriptions about the life the person led. For example, I might normally expect something like "Loving father and husband" or something like that. the only thing close was the German translation of "Here lies with God..."

The headstones themselves were quite interesting. Instead of just a headstone, they also had either a solid flat panel of granite or other stone that covered the entire grave site, or what amounted to a beautiful stone border surrounding a patch of earth transformed into a beautiful garden. These gardens were incredibly beautiful and varied, as if describing the beauty and type of life lived by the person interred in the particular grave. Some had bushes, others were rock gardens. The ground was entirely covered in beautiful flowering plants in some cases and in others by dark earth carefully raked in the manner of a Japanese garden. Many had a special place for a candle or lantern and one even had a small bird bath engraved into the stone. And as in American cemetaries that I am more familiar with, there were, in many cases, also double or triple sized graves, for both husband and wife and perhaps a child. I did not see a single mausoleum (I think that's the right word) for a family, though. As with churches (even without a flash), I struggle on whether it is disrespectful to take photos of cemetaries. I made an exception here because it seems like such a celebration of life. However, I may be entirely wrong here since I know nothing about German cemetary practices. (And if you click on the photo and see it in a larger window, you can also get an idea of the idyllic town that lies beneath it.)

After this brief stop, I headed back into the town and stopped to take a picture of the parkhaus kind of place that still looks like it should be a restaurant. As I got out of the car and turned to face the building, I found myself also facing a gray-haired man and woman looking out of said building at the far end and watching me with a great deal of interest. As I've explained before, the license plates of cars indicate where they are from, so some chick showing up in a handsome A5 (not exactly an agricultural vehicle) with MTK license plates would elicit the same response in Germany as in the U.S. -- "You ain't from around these here parts, are ya'?" I waved at them, took my picture, and drove on. I found a parking place by the church and started walking on foot.

I encountered only one other person on my 10 minute walk, a young woman walking on the other side of the street. She, too, looked at me with a bit of suspicion, but gave me a hearty "Guten Tag!" which I returned in my best German as I pretended to belong. Alas, there wasn't really all that much to see, so I headed out of town shortly thereafter. And that's where the town's true beauty is -- the small village set against a patchwork of hay fields, stands of trees, round bales of hay, green fields, plowed fields and everything in between. The photo at the top as one enters the town perhaps captures that beauty best, though it doesn't contain the village itself.

Alas, no sign of or to the caves. However, there were plenty of signs in the nearby highway to both Ramstein and Landstuhl -- large US air base and hospital -- so I'm sure someone still has an eye on them....

29 July 2009 - Barney, Part 2

As a follow-up to the closet installation post, allow me to share installment two of the Barney series.

Recall that when I first moved into my apartment back in February, I bought a small (by current TV standards) 26" flat screen TV from Barney. It was on sale, I thought I needed a TV (not realizing at the time that most of the satellite programming I got at the apartment would be in German), so it was a done deal.

The general idea was that once the closet was installed, I would move that 26" TV into the bedroom and purchase a larger TV for the living room. At that point I still had not determined what the setup for the living room would be since it is an odd shape and the placement of the satellite jack was on the smallest wall in the entire room and the worst possible place to put a TV. And, as discussed in the posting about lighting, the exterior walls and some of the interior walls are made of a solid chalk block, so it's not as if I can pull the cable through the wall and create a jack in a more convenient place. And just forget about surround sound unless you want visible wires everywhere.

So fast forward to about two months ago. I knew that the closet system was scheduled for installation and it was time to think about the larger TV. (As a side note, I don't actually watch much TV, especially since there isn't, for example, a channel over here that runs Law & Order re-runs nearly continuously, which would lure me in like a strange siren's song.) So I began shopping. The last time I actually shopped for a TV was about two years ago when I got my flat panel TV for my place in Chicago. Flat panels were not nearly so ubiquitous then as they are now and prices had not yet begun to drop. That's the good news. The bad news is that there are a lot more models to choose from and, like most things in Europe, TV prices here are more expensive than in the US. And then there's the matter of all of the technical specifications being in German. I mean, it's easy enough to figure out size (though some list the size in centimeters, which takes some getting used to) and resolution and whether it has HDMI slots, but some of the rest like the brand-specific features are a bit confusing.

Hmmmm.... Who could help me with all of these confusing things and work with me in English? Oh yes...Barney!

I decided that if I was going to invest this much in a TV, I wanted to be able to take it back to the US with me when I was done. And I wanted something large, but not gigantaur. So I told Barney that it was important that the TV have a removable power cord that could be exchanged for one that would work in the US without the need for a converter. (I should note that my brother, Seth, graciously volunteered to take the US flat screen off my hands so that it wouldn't sit idle in storage for four long years. He admitted later that he figured that by the time I returned, I'd want something newer than that TV anyway. He's probably right. The joke may be on him, though, as once he installed the TV it started mysteriously just going on strike every once in a while. Crazy Dutch (Phillips) technology....)

TV stations in Germany also broadcast in a different way (I don't know the specifics related to this) than US stations (aside from the whole digital thing, which is a different battle). I was less concerned about this, though, since the likelihood of my having the new TV in a place in the US where I would have neither cable nor satellite service was slim to none. I also wanted a model that could be serviced in the US, if necessary. This, somewhat unfortunately, removed from consideration the German-manufactured Loewe (not to be confused with Lowe's home stores, cinemas or hotels) TVs that have some of the crispest pictures I've ever seen but are nearly twice as expensive as the other brands. Anyway, Barney said he would do some research for me. Love it.

While he was doing this, something entirely unexpected happened. My mom, from whom I'm pretty sure neither Seth nor I received our gadget/technology obsession gene, bought a new TV. A flat panel TV, of course. Seth installed it on the wall for her and she said everyone who came over remarked on how nice and large it was. This made me curious. As far as I know, she generally watches romantic comedies, Hallmark movies and, occasionally, Vegetales flicks with my nieces. (Mom, feel free to add a comment to the blog to clarify.) Not really into action flicks with special effects. So when it was rumored that she had purchased a 46" beast, the gadget chick in me suddenly felt a bit challenged. I'm not generally a keep-up-with-the-Joneses kind of person, but I mean, if my Mom had that big of a TV....

When I went back to see Barney, a beautiful sight greeted me. Multiple signs saying something like "Reduziert" which I interpreted as reductions or a SALE!!!! Woohoo!! Turns out that EP Fischer's fiscal year ended on June 30 so, like most companies, they tried to reduce inventory so there was less inventory to have to count. (And you know how we auditors do so love a good inventory-taking....) Even the big flat panel TVs were on sale. Very, very good.

Barney had indeed performed some research and it seemed like the best bet based on my criteria listed above for me would be a Sony TV. The question was, which one? I looked at the 46" size and it was, quite simply, gigantic. I could not comprehend it in my living room without feeling like I would be standing on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise (which would be cool, but not very realistic). The price for the 46" Sony Bravia with 100Hz frame rate was the same as the 40" with 200Hz frame rate. And the latter would just fit a whole bunch better in my living room and was still huge relative to the 26" Samsung, if not to Mom's TV (though it turned out later, Mom only has a 42" TV, so I am not a total slacker). So I went with the 40". And Barney even cut me a deal on delivery since I am, literally, across the street from the store. (AND, with the "savings" from the sale, I was able to buy a very cool new also-on-sale Tivoli Audio iSongBook docking station, complete with amazing sound (I would expect no less from them), an excellent remote control, surprisingly good radio reception, the ability to charge my big iPod (alas, not my Mini), a detachable speaker on one side to create a better stereo effect, and battery compatibility and little plugs so I could, say, take this sound show to the beach or, closer to home, a bathtub area near me.)

And that should be the end of this story, though of course it is not. The day the TV was delivered, I felt the keen desire to test out the 200Hz Motionflow technology as well as the built-in speakers (I still can't figure out how I'd do surround sound, but hoped perhaps it would not be necessary to contemplate further). What better way to do that than through an in-home viewing of Ronin, which is an action-packed moved with some good special effects and with the most phenomenal car chase scenes featuring, of course, Audi! So I picked up the only DVD player they had in the store and which was also on sale. Sweet.

Um, yeah. Small issue. European DVD players play DVDs formatted for Region 2. The US (and, hence, my entire DVD collection -- which isn't saying much) are formatted for Region 1 viewing. Uhhh.... It was, by this time, Saturday night, so all stores were closed. I had noted, however, that there was the ability to connect a PC to the TV and I happened to have the right cord (the same one you would use to connect to a projecter for an office presentation). Only one problem -- that provided the video connection, but the audio was still coming through my laptop speakers, which wasn't exactly the experience I was looking for. I tried a variety of cords that I have that have an input to the laptop's headphone jack and that split into red and white TV inputs. None of them worked. I think that is because you have to change the input to PC and the red/white inputs relate to a Component input selection. Doh!!! I finally lugged the computer speakers with sub-woofer (described months ago in this blog) out into the living room and hooked that up and it worked like a charm, but wasn't exactly a long-term solution.

The next week I went to Media Markt to see if they had any DVD players that would play Region 1 DVDs. They did some checking on-line but, alas, the answer was no. I finally broke down and bought some Region 2 DVDs so I could test the TV. (I have to say, Miranda in "Der Teufel Trägt Prada" (yes, "The Devil Wears Prada") sounds so much more wicked when she's speaking German.) I believe that the Bourne movie I watched proved that the TV and its speakers would be fine for my viewing needs. But I still wanted to watch my US movies....

I was mentioning the problem to one of my colleagues and he said he thought his brother had purchased an inexpensive multi-regional DVD player and he would look into it. Later, he sent me links to two such devices on Amazon.de. For €30, how could I go wrong? Well, it turns out that the one that I bought (didn't really pay attention to the description on the web site since it was German) was used, but it arrived in good conditions and they even left the batteries in the gigantic remote. More importantly? It works like a charm.

15 July 2009 - Coming out of the Closet

[Perhaps Madonna's "Hung Up" would be appropriate, though clearly she was thinking about something else.]



Recall my excitement about the pending installation of my long-awaited closet system that was ordered back in March. Well, the closet system was installed a couple weeks ago. It was more or less what I thought I had ordered (again, recall that this order was defined and placed in German with a salesperson who spoke nearly as little English as I spoke German at that time). And perhaps not surprisingly, the guys who came to build/install the system also spoke limited English. But, I mean, how much English does it take to tell them how to install a pre-configured system, right?


(Quick time out here as you are probably looking at the photo and trying to figure it out. The cabinet is black-brown wood with black glass panels applied at the top and bottom. There are three doors that slide open and allow one of the three sections to be exposed at a time or for all to be closed. In the current configuration, you will note a lot of color, which, at least in the bottom section, is my response to the weird cubbyhold situation -- stuffing rolled up exercise attire into the slots for easy access with some semblance of organization.)


They were asking, for example, at which height I wanted the closet bar in the section that would hold dresses and long items, as well as for the bars in the divided section for jackets on top and pants and short skirts on the bottom. I mean, shouldn't there be standard heights for where these bars should be? Suffice it to say, there apparently are not and when I started unpacking (finally!!) the wardrobe boxes that had been lurking in my bedroom and the study, I discovered that the dresses dragged on the floor (and thus covering shoes, for which shoe racks had not been provided as I had thought I had requested) and the jackets were nearly spilling into the pants area on the other side. But this was nearly the least of my worries. And don't get me started on the odd cubby hole things that I thought were supposed to be small drawers for hosiery and the like, but weren't.

One of the specific features I had wanted in the closet system was a large space in the center section for a TV (which TV would be the 26" LCD I bought from Barney as the temporary TV for my digs and which was to be moved into this space and replaced in the living room with a larger model, which is a topic for a separate blog). Um, yeah. Problem. The unit backed up flat against the wall and covered the cable and power outlets, which I only realized much later because I hadn't been able to communicate this to the installation guys. And no ability, even if I were able to somehow get to the boxes, to be able to feed them into the closet system without drilling holes.

Did someone say drilling? As with power tools? I feel compelled to refer back to a previous entry that I believe was titled, "I am Sparky's Sister." Have tools. Always looking for more. Will drill. (Not to be confused with, "Drill, baby, drill," which is a conversation for another day. But imagine how angry I might sound if I have that conversation in German! ;-))

So this past weekend I set about remedying the height of the closet bars, the distribution of the shelves and the certain matter of electronics. The first toy that was required (and which was purchased the day after closet installation) was something that I believe is called a pocket hole saw. (I feel compelled to mention I came to that conclusion based on a review of the Home Depot web site. I knew what I was looking for in the Hornbach store here, though, if that makes you not lose total confidence in me being a biological sister to Sparky.) Basically, picture a circular band of steel. The bottom side of the band has an aggressive edge of metal teeth like any other saw. And the other end fastens (that's a gross simplification) to a power drill. When engaged, this tool can drill circular holes into flat surfaces. You know, surfaces like the walls of a closet system....


Problem was, I didn't know exactly where, behind this closet system, the power or satellite outlets were. I measured the height of the outlets in the rooms, which appeared to be consistently at about 12 inches (or whatever the centimeter equivalent is, but this American only has a "standard" measurement tape measure -- in case you're thinking of stocking stuffers for Christmas already). I recalled the approximate position and began drilling in the back wall of the closet. And then the power went out. Hmmm.... Yeah, that's because Captain Intelligence (I'm being sarcastic) had indeed estimated correctly and drilled directly into the extension cord plugged into the electrical outlet behind the wall, resulting in a short and a very nice example of how German electrical systems are designed to prevent accountants with power tools from electrocuting themselves. So I had uncovered one outlet, but more remained. And I couldn't recall whether there were multiple outlets before one got to the satellite connection. Um, nutshell? Three power outlets, so now there are a series of four interlinked circles in the back wall. (If I did a fifth, could I get an Olympic award of some sort because it kind of looks like the rings.....) I then drilled another hole between the left and right sections of the closet system and we were in business with fully functional TV and satellite receiver.


All good. But the four circles bothered me. I wanted to clean them up before I put all the clothes back into the closet. So back to Hornbach I went in search of a nice sawing tool of some sort. I ended up buying a Dremel tool with a separate "cutting kit." Sweet, right? Now, I should have thought, "Hmmmm, I don't recall Sparky himself ever referring to, let alone extolling the virtues of, his Dremel tool." Well, yeah, that's because the Dremel documentation indicated it was for DIY projects. Ruh roh.


But I had the special cutting cut, so all was fine, right? Not so much. The cutting tools included were not meant for wood surfaces. So the round discs ended up essentially creating friction with the wood and pretty much burning it, rather than cutting it. Now, this makes for an interesting smell in one's bedroom, but hardly solved the problem of how to clean up this series of holes before hanging the clothes up in the closet.


So.... Nutshell, I have TV and satellite service in my bedroom. I have several new toys. Cords are out of sight. There is a slight scent of campfire in the air. And I still have no idea what the cubbyholes are for. Life goes on.....