Freezin' & Schlagin'

On Sunday, we went to a professional ice hockey game. I didn't even know there was such a thing. At least not in Germany. But there is. The Hamburg team is called the Freezers. Really dumb name. Their logo is a guy with a hockey mask and a blue face. Even dumber logo.

Exhibit A:


The game was fun, though. It was more of a performance, at least at the beginning and end. There was a light show, some guy rapelling onto the ice, an artificially made authentic snowstorm, lots of lyrical chanting and big flags being waved around. I have never seen a N. American hockey game in person, so I have no basis for comparison, but it seemed pretty fancy. I was happy there were nachos and the beer prices were fair (3 and change for 1/2 liter).

I thought it was interesting that there were many U.S. and Canadian players on both teams. I guess it's like football & basketball: Europe seems to be a place to put young so-so athletes to see if they can make something of themselves. Since we've been here we've met a semi-professional field hockey player (again, didn't know there was such a thing) and a semi-pro football player, who was very large in person. Go figure. But they seemed to be on the same so-so athlete circuit, trying to get somewhere. I can't figure out if I should feel bad for them because they aren't in the big time or feel really happy for them because they get to make money doing what they love.

Enough athletics talk (next thing you know, I'll be talking about the weather, which totally sucks lately, by the way).

The other thing in our life lately is the newly revived German tradition of Schlager music. It's god-awful, sappy, cheesy, mostly love music along the lines of Michael Bolton, but with less talent and really terrible videos featuring low-budget computer animation. I'm talking pastel hearts bouncing around in random fashion behind the singer(s). David loves Schlager and watches it every chance he gets. There is a cable channel dedicated to the topic, so he gets the chance a lot.

David has identified three clear generations of schlager: I, II, & III. 1st generations Schlager is usually one person lip synching on a stage (either live or studio). One clear feature of 1st generation is that the singer is fixed in one spot. Is this a camera/technology issue? Not sure, but they stay put. Arms are free to gesticulate at will and a certain amount of swaying is permitted, but that's about it.

2nd generation allows some movement around the crowd, who, by the way, are usually clapping to the music with straight faces while swilling beer.

3rd generation Schlager blows the doors off. These are full blown music videos. Often the set is in a remote location, like Mallorca (a huge German tourist destination in Spain). The singers are often single guys, a guy (with a first and last name) accompanied by a much younger girl (with only a first name) or possibly two sisters (one blond, one brunette). Occassional deviations from these combinations are permitted, although not with any regularity.

This is art people, not to be trifled with. Annually, Schlager-loyalists descend on Hamburg for one day in June to partake in an outrageous parade called the Schlager Move. Everyone dresses in dayglo leisure suits and sways to the intoxicating beat. It's an event David intends NOT to miss. Be sure.

Here's a sample of some typical, particularly awful Schlager for interested parties:

Old school:



A bit more modern:



Nice, huh?

Even though Germany is home to Schlager, I still love Hamburg.

Madrid, Denmark and more!

I realize I've gotten increasingly sporadic with blog posts - down to about once a month. For my modest readership, this may be a relief/disappointment/completely irrelevant. For my own personal sense of continuity, I feel obligated. So, onward we go.

We've been traveling heaps this year, already. In addition to a winter tour of northern Germany and Egypt (see earlier post), we've also been to Madrid, Spain and this weekend we spent several days at a beach house in Denmark. As Gina says, it's a 'pinch me' moment for sure.

Madrid was for work, which I am mixed about. I mean, I love it. Don't get me wrong. It is just so damn cool; however, I don't get to see much. The routine is usually arrive Sunday afternoon and prepare for work. The week is fairly busy and we are largely confined to the hotel until about 6 or 7. So, we go to dinner and then pretty much call it a night. But the break from routine is really nice - I like it. And there is always time to sqeeze in a grocery store tour (my top 5 favorite thing to do in a foreign country).

Anyway, Madrid is downright opposed to catering to any sort of dietary anomolies. I got mushrooms (with ham), roasted red peppers (with fish). Even the seemingly safe salad came with a big scoop of tuna on it. Empanadas labled as 'vegetarian' featured fish. I guess it's all relative. Another part of the usual travel routine is that a couple of cultural activities are scheduled - often historical, usually very cool. In Cairo we toured the pyramids, in Madrid we went to the Prado museum and then dinner. The museum was great and so was the dinner - lots of tapas, wine and (for the meat eaters) about half a cow followed by delightful cake.

This week, we took a couple of days off work and headed north to Denmark. Our friends rented a house on the west coast of Denmark (Rinkobing, to be precise - although in the interest of full disclosure, the 'o' should have a little diagonal line that doesn't figure in on my keyboard but still manages to imperceptibly change the pronunciation). All told, there were 10 of us - 9 adults and one 9 year old girl that was completely crazy about Stella. The reverse is a little less clear, but Stella tolerated her well.

We had a really nice time with everybody. We all took turns making dinners and breakfasts. Of course, there was lots of beer drinking and relaxing. Stella sort of capped the event by maiming a seagull on the beach. David and I were walking with Lilith, the girl, on the beach when we saw Stella pouncing on something at the water's edge. So as to minimize the emotional impact on the kid, I fished the bird out of a very rough sea just as it was about to give up the ghost. In thanks, it bit me. Damn. I was really hoping it was bird-flu-free.

We gathered it had a broken wing. Thanks, Stella. And David and I just weren't sure what to do. So we hauled it back to the house to fret there. The whole time we were anxious about what to do in large part because we thought Lilith might freak out. As it happens, she pretty much forgot about it as soon as she told her mom and went inside to color. Given that we were in another country and didn't speak the language and the contact number for the house was going unanswered, David and I decided to put the bird out of his misery. Ugh.

The bird-indicdent behind us (but not forgotten), we took advantage of the jacuzzi and sauna. Man, I love Denmark. Even the stores were nicer - all of the products were somehow shinier, neater, cleaner. Albeit, more expensive. The houses were tidier, even than Germany, which is no mean feat. I guess in a country with a few million people and outrageous taxes, everything just should look nice.

Next on the travel agenda is NY (for both David and I) followed by S. Africa (just David). There are other trips in the pipeline, but I'll save that for posts closer to the event. For the near future, we are in Hamburg and I'll be more regular keeping friends and family abreast, whether you like it or not.

Even though there are no saunas, I still love Hamburg.