September 12, 1999

loose anecdotes-

walking to pfarrkirchen that day three weeks ago or so for my first german

installment,

i remember noticing th particular rumble of an approaching motorcycle:

after th

higher-pitchd, close sputtering of th abundant rice burners on th bayern

backroads (&

front & side roads, too) this low, clear-cylinder roar made me think of th

expression-

'like a well-tuned fart' or something like that & i turned to see my first

german

harley rider. a second one rode along past me down some weimar street

yesterday. that

sound is unmistakable...

riding w/ alex on those backroads, those first rainy nights in

niederbayern, i couldn't

help but notice th sadly abundant number of small furry animals bloodily

splattered

over th pavement- 'what's w/ all th roadkill, alex?' i asked, to his

befuddlement. i

proceeded to expostulate (don't ask me why) on th possible metaphorical

uses of th

term- like, i guess, feeling like something of a failure in th conventional

terms of

modern social success & wondering if i'm roadkill on th highway of late

20th century-

ummm- life?

am i living my life a little too virtually & pretending this somehow

semantically

slides into living it virtuously??

i acted on my respect for th dead- walking to pfarrkirchen- & nudged one

poor little

hedgehog, dead & bloated nearly perfectly into a ball- too small for

soccer, too big

for- what have you...a small miracle th poor thing wasn't flattened into a

bloody

tattoo on th pavement, as most of th animals that get run over in these

parts seem to

be- nudged him (her?) off th road, anyway. wasn't carrying th tools to

attempt a decent

burial...

excuse th topic, seems to agree w/ me & linger on...

(next day, friday th 10th...) i knew there were other topics to discusss-

seems

thursday night is oldies night all over germany! as i walkd 'home' last

night to peter

& astrid's, music came out of one restaurant bar i've bn meaning to check

out- 'hang on

sloopy'!...& back in bayern, my big night out w/ alex & vanessa & christof

& michaela

was to a disco calld platinum & these kids who cd be my sons or daughters

(as teresa wd

hiss @ me whenever my head wd turn to follow some pretty young thing w/ my

gaze) were

singing along to th weiiiirdest stuff- th trini lópez version of 'if i had

a hammer'??-

'hit th road, jack' by ray charles...'son of a preacher man' by dusty

springfield, 'th

lion sleeps tonight' by--?

& so on...

true, true...davidj=(8{>