we figured Saturday morning might be the perfect time to get out of dodge and spend some time in a forest. this is Germany, after all.
this after spending a Friday evening at a cabaret featuring a woman named Meow Meow, who is known for her Kamikaze Kabaret, among other things. funnily enough she recently appeared in SF as part of the Weimar New York evening at SF MOMA, which i'd been kicking myself for having missed.
the first half started off a little too broad, comic and forced for my tastes. but the second half was something else altogether; she very cleverly took the audience credits she'd accrued during the first half and then spent them by performing more esoteric fare without sacrificing the comic and ironic undertow you need if you're going to pull an audience with you and leave them stranded and wanting more.
she ended with a hypnotic reading of a Laurie Anderson song called "The Dream Before."
laurie's been off my radar until recently. the performance reminded me of her genius.
Hansel and Gretel are alive and well
And they're living in Berlin
She is a cocktail waitress
He had a part in a Fassbinder film
And they sit around at night now drinking schnapps and gin
And she says: Hansel, you're really bringing me down
And he says: Gretel, you can really be a bitch
He says: I've wasted my life on our stupid legend When my one and only love was the wicked witch. She said: What is history?
And he said: History is an angel being blown backwards into the future
He said: History is a pile of debris
And the angel wants to go back and fix things
To repair the things that have been broken
But there is a storm blowing from Paradise
And the storm keeps blowing the angel backwards into the future
And this storm, this storm is called Progress
not too bright and not too early the next morning we made our way to a brand spanking new steel and glass train station, and bought ridiculously cheap tickets for both ourselves and our bikes and rode about an hour out of the city, deep into the countryside of the former DDR, about halfway to the Baltic Sea. later on when we returned, we pulled in just as a sleeper car to Moscow was pulling out. suddenly i was seized by a pang of remorse. remorse that i might never take a sleeping train that would take me via Warsaw to the soviet capital, or perhaps even better, maybe up to Sweden and into hallowed Bergman Smiles of a Summer Night territory.
after a ten mile bike ride from the station, we set up on the shores of the Stechlinsee, which is apparently a favorite of the so-call "body culture" or nudist movement that was and is still popular in the East (more than the west, i think).
of course i kept my clothes on, since as we know, i'm not here to participate, i'm here to judge!
later, the woman next door pulled out of a nap and was soon hard at work on her crossword (or suduko).
we lazed around the shore until Klaus, our special host and guide for the day convinced us all to go in. the water was a c.h.i.l.l.y 60 degrees or so.
i took the plunge and swam across to the other side and back. like swimming in Lake Tahoe, you run into some very icy currents along the way. and then once back, took a blissful nap with nothing but the sound of birds and the occasional sounds of nudist lesbians frolicking and laughing in the water nearby.
at around 6pm, we saddled up the bikes and road around the lake to a small restaurant that specializes in smoked fish. in this case, some kind of German mackeral or sardine that was served whole--heads and all-- with potato salad and some lettuce and cucumbers. and of course, the requisite beer with light traveling through it at 186,000 miles per second ...
we then circled back around the lake and made it to the train with only five minutes to spare. it struck me once again that exertion does a body good. especially when accompanied by sun, swimming, good company, and of course a book, napping opportunities + fresh fish and beer.
just sign me,
Guantanamera
laurie's been off my radar until recently. the performance reminded me of her genius.
Hansel and Gretel are alive and well
And they're living in Berlin
She is a cocktail waitress
He had a part in a Fassbinder film
And they sit around at night now drinking schnapps and gin
And she says: Hansel, you're really bringing me down
And he says: Gretel, you can really be a bitch
He says: I've wasted my life on our stupid legend When my one and only love was the wicked witch. She said: What is history?
And he said: History is an angel being blown backwards into the future
He said: History is a pile of debris
And the angel wants to go back and fix things
To repair the things that have been broken
But there is a storm blowing from Paradise
And the storm keeps blowing the angel backwards into the future
And this storm, this storm is called Progress
not too bright and not too early the next morning we made our way to a brand spanking new steel and glass train station, and bought ridiculously cheap tickets for both ourselves and our bikes and rode about an hour out of the city, deep into the countryside of the former DDR, about halfway to the Baltic Sea. later on when we returned, we pulled in just as a sleeper car to Moscow was pulling out. suddenly i was seized by a pang of remorse. remorse that i might never take a sleeping train that would take me via Warsaw to the soviet capital, or perhaps even better, maybe up to Sweden and into hallowed Bergman Smiles of a Summer Night territory.
after a ten mile bike ride from the station, we set up on the shores of the Stechlinsee, which is apparently a favorite of the so-call "body culture" or nudist movement that was and is still popular in the East (more than the west, i think).
of course i kept my clothes on, since as we know, i'm not here to participate, i'm here to judge!
later, the woman next door pulled out of a nap and was soon hard at work on her crossword (or suduko).
we lazed around the shore until Klaus, our special host and guide for the day convinced us all to go in. the water was a c.h.i.l.l.y 60 degrees or so.
i took the plunge and swam across to the other side and back. like swimming in Lake Tahoe, you run into some very icy currents along the way. and then once back, took a blissful nap with nothing but the sound of birds and the occasional sounds of nudist lesbians frolicking and laughing in the water nearby.
at around 6pm, we saddled up the bikes and road around the lake to a small restaurant that specializes in smoked fish. in this case, some kind of German mackeral or sardine that was served whole--heads and all-- with potato salad and some lettuce and cucumbers. and of course, the requisite beer with light traveling through it at 186,000 miles per second ...
we then circled back around the lake and made it to the train with only five minutes to spare. it struck me once again that exertion does a body good. especially when accompanied by sun, swimming, good company, and of course a book, napping opportunities + fresh fish and beer.
just sign me,
Guantanamera
1 comment:
my little legs hurt just reading about all the impressive bicycle pumping.
sounds like a nice day.
but please come home now so we can talk on the phone.
Post a Comment