Eight Reasons Why Today Really Did Not Suck Much

[muckefuck]

1. Getting out early. For those of you keeping score, that's four summons, two of which were cancelled before I even reached the building, and none of which has even resulted in reaching the selection stage, much less enpanelment. Huzzah!
2. Altenheim. Part of the reason I was willing to walk back from the courthouse is that I was interested in getting a more leisurely look at Concordia Cemetery (a rather impressive field of obelisks) and the odd compound located on its east side. At first glance, it reminded me of nothing so much as a turn-of-the-century Catholic high school, but the picnic shelter and ornate front gate made me wonder if it could be a municipal park with a large community centre and conspicuous lack of signage. Actually, it's an old folks' home[*], a relic from the quaint era when siting these next to graveyards was considered more convenient than morbid. Sadly, there's no photo of the awesomely decrepit, Frankensteinesquely modified, shuttered building out back, which is so totally begging to be the locus of some Unknown Armies encountre.
3. Even the coldest wind can only blow one way at a time! The whole way from the courthouse to the main drag, I was cursing Odysseus' negligence. But because the route from court to terminal is almost a full circuit, I soon had the wind at my back and the sun over my shoulder. Go me!
4. It's not the ice, it's the fluidity. Yesterday's Celsius high, 11 (51℉), is today's Fahrenheit high.[**] This means, of course, that yesterday's puddles are today's ice rinks. But, as we all know, it isn't ice that's slippery, it's the thin layer of water on top that forms from the friction of your step. The colder it is, the less ice melts. So despite the fact that almost no one had salted, walking on the ice wasn't really any more hazardous than walking through a half-inch of powder.
5. Daddy's little boy. Round about Sheridan, a businessman sat his puffy-coated toddler son into the seat next to him. He then proceeded to pull a pink plastic package from his briefcase and unwrap it. The boy asked him something and the man replied, "That's daddy's newspaper." Next I glanced over, the toddler was holding the front page at the length of his tiny arms and studying it assiduously as his father glumly perused his Blackberry. I thought I'd about hit cute overload when the kid turned the paper over to study the front page's lower half. That alone made the entire commute downtown worthwhile.
6. A cup of Gemütlichkeit. The Bratkartoffeln and the Currywurst, I was willing to eat standing. But when it came to the Quarkkeulchen, I decided to commandeer one end of an empty table. Later on, after a baby-faced Pinoy had wordlessly taken a seat, I saw a young couple casting about for real estate. "I can move down and you can sit over here," I offered, and went back to eating in the best German ignore-thy-neighbour style. But no one had taught our displaced Californians the rules, and soon Ian, Michelle, the Pinoy, and I were discoursing animatedly about winter storms, political corruption, catching mutant fish in Lake Michigan, and everything else that makes this city great. Have fun in town, kids, and for god's sake don't break anything!
7. Christkindlkitsch. Yes, it's too much to pay for some silly gee-gaw my mother will only take out once a year, if that. But it exists at such a powerful nexus of restrained kitsch, thoughtful craftsmanship, and ethnic pseudo-nostalgia. Marry that to an affable salesman with a gonz doll lieba Austrian accent who instantly remembered me and was willing to spend all afternoon answering every question and demonstrating every item, and how could I not succumb?
8. Marzipan. Gnug gsagt, gell?

[*] Wow, dig the Web 1.0-ness of that garish website!
[**] For the Celsius equivalent, input the Fahrenheit into your calculator and hit the "+/-" key.)

Comments

[his-regard.livejournal.com]

I just got your message this morning! Sorry about that. (Not that getting it in a timely manner would have helped with plans; I called in sick yesterday.)

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Yesterday was a good day to be sick. On the other hand, the booths weren't exactly thronged!

[innerdoggie.livejournal.com]

I was really admiring the nativity scenes too.

In Pennsylvania, I learned about the Christmas putz. The word struck me as odd, since doesn't it mean something quite different in Yiddish?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

The words probably aren't related. This putz is from Early Modern German Putz "ornament, decoration", which is pronounced like English "puts" (i.e. with a "short oo"). The proper Yiddish spelling (romanised) for "putz" is "pots" (with a "short o"), which is how it comes to be pronounced like "putts" in English.

On the other hand, with Schmuck/shmok, we do see an evolution from "adornment, jewellery" (the latter meaning still current in Standard German) to "penis", so perhaps the same development took place with Putz as well.

[keyne.livejournal.com]

I needed #5. Thanks.