You know, I think the Germans decided to conquer Europe because they couldn’t stand their own food. I mean, is it any wonder they stock the liverwurst beside the cat food? Is there even any difference between the two? Of course, it’s not as bad as it used to be. My friend told me the first time he saw Mozzarella in Italy, he thought it was lard. Alice B. Toklas said she billeted German soldiers during the war who had never even TASTED butter. I wonder about her though: the world was coming to an end and she talked about how they preserved meat in white wine; hid dried fruit for the liberation. Maybe that’s not so crazy after all – saving something precious for better days. Besides, I have found that artists often retreat within themselves during crisis to create esoteric works which have nothing at all to do with their surroundings. Oh well, not everything can be Guernica. But maybe it should. And I have always believed that people who say art isn’t political should be shot. Now THAT would make a great installation.
Oh, what of it. Have you been to the Hamburger Bahnhof – the museum for contemporary art? There was this piece called “shithead”….I needn’t describe it, but I will tell you I was thankful they protected it behind 3 layers of glass. Oh, and there was an entire airplane hangar full of urine samples. I ask you: what’s wrong with a pretty painting? Wait…please don’t tell me.
So, what does one bring to a pizza party at a commune? I would bring ham, but I think the hosts are Israeli. Oh who cares, I’ll tell them its turkey. You know, I haven’t the faintest idea of how I fell in with the granola expat crowd. I met this girl in my German class, and before you know it I’m talking disarmament with documentary film makers from Kazakhstan with more facial hair than a mammoth. Of course, there are no Germans at these evenings…Why? Oh I think they think we’re crazy: A German would never move to another country to just “find themselves”, without a job, without any sort of support. Would you, raised on the milk of socialism…cradle to grave security, 6 weeks of holiday a year? No, this nomadic quality is a particularly North American affliction, a product of our frontier mentality. The mode of transport may have changed, but we’re still a bunch of naïve idiots in a wagon train looking for a pot of gold.
And where did I get my refreshing optimism? Darling, you know it’s impossible to explain a mystery. Now go and get me a beer…
…the one thing that links us all.
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