There was a moment, when I was ambling through Munich when I realized no one I know had any idea where I was. I could of gotten runned over by the tram while looking at a castle museum or museum castle and meanwhile, back in America, no one would have been the wiser. I missed my connection back to the states and wound up put up in Halbermoos, a few km from the aeroport. I was in Munich for a couple hours before I remembered I had been there before. I was not so into it the first time either. Castles and watching rich tourists watching the chiming of the Rathskeller does not a good time make, though after the previous few nights of all night disco-til-dawn mode, the flat hamlet of Halbermoos and the ancient bougie majesty of Munich was not entirely unwelcome. I watched cable news hurricane coverage in Dutch and felt continental and alien at the same time. When I got to the room, the television was on and read "WILKOMMEN MRS. HOPPER"--apparently the TV had me confused with my grandma.
The austerity and blaring silence of Germany is a wonderful reprieve from the sticky swelter and trunk rattling bass and firecrackers that I have returned home to, though today I only heard "A Milli" four times and someone BLASTING Nina Simone, which is the best thing to pass under my window since that kid cruised by a few weeks ago on his bike playing the new Hold Steady on a boom box. I downloaded some sets of the Martinez Brothers, in hopes that it would twinkle some like their set I danced to the other night--which was like my coming-true everydream of hard thudding progressive disco liberation (seizure lights and volcano bass rumbling the body numb from ass to throat)--but it's not so magic in a 100 degree hot totally destroyed living room flecked with a ream of book notes that the cats carefully shredded while I was away.
I danced a little while I rifled though towering piles of unopened mail, digging for the checks and New Yorkers. Not the same.
I have touched back down into real life much to my chagrin, playcation is over, writing 4000 words a day is over and the manuscript is in, the sun was nearly down by seven-ish signaling the denouement of an epic summer. I turn 32 on Friday; a lot is over, which means everything else-next is about to begin.Posted by Jessica at September 2, 2008 10:07 PM | TrackBack