Analog Aesthetics

Today I made a futile attempt at hiking in the woods outside the city. I got off the train and had a terrible time finding the entrance among the scattered businesses of this obvious Dorf. I've gotten so used to city life that the empty view of such a small town startled me. I began trekking through the bare trees, trying hard to envision the beautiful forests of the Appalachian Trail, but it proved really difficult as the woods were completely surrounded by highways or the Autobahn - I could hear the roar of traffic despite wearing headphones and listening to some "hiking" rock. What a shame, although the beauty was a nice change, the golden-orange-red-brown of the fallen leaves, bare limbs making it easy to pick new footpaths. I didn't even mind the hobo camping out, creepily eyeing me as I went by.

That is, until I encountered a band of horseback riders on my way back to the train stop, where I pleasantly greeted one of them who had ridden towards me. He greeted me just as warmly, then proceeded to tell me (in a frank manner I've come to really associate with Germany) that he had a full bladder and needed to relieve himself. As I frantically tried to edge my way around prickly branches and the back end of his horse, he whips it right out. To make my embarrassment even more permanent, as I passed his companions they asked if I had encountered a young man. I said yes, to which they asked me what he was doing. Of course, they knew very well, and in keeping with the anything-goes nature that had apparently gotten into everyone on this unusually sunny and warm November Sunday, I said I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, shrugged profusely, and hurried to the train platform.

Nature is beautiful, but human nature can sometimes be something else altogether.

And in other news...

The youth revolt in France has me thinking of Pi-Rho, only these kids are really frightening. They have next to no remorse for any of the destructive things they are doing, but who's to blame? They feel justified; the law feels justified in locking them up for life if they ever catch them, causing the youths to feel ever-more justified in this cyclic power struggle. It isn't hard for me to imagine the kind of life and future these kids lead; I see it every day in Cologne, although there are definite areas to escape the reality and apathetically rejoin your safe utopia if you wish. And to top it off, how did the youths get away before the police could arrive? Using cell phones and text messages to alert each other of police positioning. And I'm told digital technology will save us all.

I can't wait, however, to get my modem in order and start playing the games Wally keeps talking about. I find them as fascinating as watching a car wreck. The fact that whole worlds exist where seemingly no life resides, is incredible. I'm pretty removed from culture as it is, at least popular culture, but this is another culture altogether, one that terrifies and intrigues me at the same time. More on it later.

Bonn is officially my favorite city in Europe. Birthplace of Beethoven, home of one of my heroes in broadcasting, Deutsche Welle, and full of beautiful houses and buildings galore, as well as street-lined streets to make you weep. And I almost did. Walking towards the Palace, I was struck with such a Glücksgefühl I nearly had to sit down. Had it not been raining fiercely, I might have, and enjoyed a quick perusal through the outdoor book shelf standing there, offering passersby the opportunity to "borrow" books and replace them, perhaps with new ones. Outdoor libraries - what a fantastic idea. And in an age where books - that is, real, physical books, the kind you open and breathe in their delicious paper smell, so intoxicating - are quickly becoming an outdated fashion, the outdoor library brought immense cheer to my heart.

As part of my digital-defiance, I'm going to try to double the amount of letters and postcards I send out each week. Please email me if I don't have your address.
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