"Thump!"
I was situated in my seat on the airplane, eyes closed, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing flying to Berlin at 7am on a Friday morning.
I glanced back in surprise at the noise, and saw that clearly something had fallen out of the overhead compartment. I closed my eyes again and waited for boarding to be completed.
A couple of minutes later, the flight attendant came on the PA and asked if there was a doctor on board, and if so, to please contact the staff immediately. No sooner had the woman made the announcement, the PA crackled again, this time with the question, "Is there a Paramedic on board?"
The girl sitting to my left (next to the window: I was in the middle seat), who was English, turned to me and asked if they had just asked for a doctor, then got up and made her way to the front of the cabin. Obviously, the announcements had all been in German, but as both English and German tend to sort of run together in my head now, I don't always consciously recognize which language is spoken. Prime examples are during business travel when I stay in some hotel. Sometimes I will switch on the television and watch part of a film before falling asleep. Months later, I might discuss a movie with someone, and half the time cannot remember which language I saw it in.
The importance of language might be highlighted by a brief, perhaps slightly drunken conversation that a couple of friends and I had with a couple of German football fans a few months back.
My two friends and I were standing outside a pub finishing our drinks before we headed off to the opening of a new pub across town. The two friends had been at the Eintracht match during the afternoon (thus, they had started much earlier than me), and were enjoying themselves, particularly since Eintracht had won their match. One of the guys was English, and spoke no German, but the other friend and I rarely speak English with one another. Said friend saw two German guys standing on the sidewalk, with cans of beer at their feet. (Public alcohol consumption is common in the area)
The five of us (ok, 4 of us) spoke in German about soccer, the afternoon's match, and then turned to our English friend and said it was time to go to the next pub. The two German guys we had met asked us to be careful, as their full cans of beer were still on the ground. Again, all of this conversation had been in German, but I forgot to tell the English guy with us to not step on the beers that were on the ground.
In fairness, it was dark outside, but the two German guys looked at us in dismay as we passed by them, with our English friend, who inadvertently kicked one of the full cans of beer as he strode by. We sort of laughed and apologized sheepishly, It never dawned on me that the Englishman had not understand what we had been talking about.
At any rate, back to the English girl who apparently was a doctor. Halfway to the front of the plane, the attendant motioned that she should instead go to the back of the plane, where someone needed medical attention.
About five minutes later, the girl came back to her seat, and explained that the "thump," we had heard was actually a suitcase (albeit small) that had fallen out of the overhead onto a passenger's head, hence the need for a bit of medical attention.
"I only thought something had fallen out of the overhead onto the floor," she explained. "Poor thing, she got a bit of a bump on her head."
Very likely this was the assumption of almost everyone on the plane, because there were no cries of surprise or pain, or the sound of someone collapsing on the floor after being clocked by a suitcase.
Just a thump.
Of all the years that I have been flying, I have never been on a flight where this kind of thing has happened, but fortunately, everything turned out okay; only a minor incident, really.
So, we took off, and an hour later were landing in Berlin. I met up with my colleague who had flown in from Munich, then we took a taxi to the supplier's location, about 30 minutes outside of the city.
The purpose of this visit was to have a "kick-off" meeting with a new repair supplier in preparation for a new project we are doing for our customer. As the operations representative, I joined the project manager and as well a technical-training manager (from Madrid) for this meeting. I have had serious concerns about the success of this project prior to this meeting, and as we discussed things through the course of the day, I realized that all of my concerns were being confirmed.
As the overall situation with my work over the past 6 months has been summed up with the words; chaotic, frantic, and out of control, I was feeling rather discouraged, particularly since most projects get thrown over the fence to the ops team, who have to work harder to simply try and clean things up. This is not unusual in my industry, and even though my career can also be described as chaotic, frantic, and out of control, I have usually, despite the stress levels, been able to cope, and somehow dig myself out of the messes.
I will likely have to do the same with this upcoming project, but like I said, I was finding myself particularly discouraged, because I have yet to be able to truly visualize what it is we are actually trying to accomplish. This is a significant difference from some of the other projects I have worked on, or am currently involved with.
That said, we were working through issues with this new supplier, and then suddenly I looked down at my emails (which I had been monitoring throughout the afternoon), and saw a new message from Lufthansa, announcing the cancellation of my return flight to Frankfurt.
I quietly sent a panicky email off to our travel agent asking for immediate assistance, and thankfully, they responded somewhat quickly that I could perhaps take an earlier flight, or alternatively, the flight that was 2 and half hours after my originally scheduled flight. I elected to take the later flight, which was going to severely interrupt my evening, but I felt it was the right decision, as we still had a a few points that we needed to discuss in the meeting.
10 minutes later, the skies opened up and it started storming like hell.
"Great," I thought to myself. "I have just booked myself on the last flight out of Berlin this evening, and things look like they will create additional delays."
Well, we wrapped up the meeting (with more questions than answers), and then one of the guys offered to drive me to the airport. We would first drop by his house, have a coffee, then eventually go the airport a bit closer to my flight time.
I was touched, as this is somewhat uncommon in German culture, to simply invite someone you just met into your home. Furthermore, this guy was doing a complete renovation of his house, so only the living room and dining room were actually presentable. (On the drive to his house, the guy called his wife to mention that we were on our way, and I overheard her ask, "what???? You have just invited someone to our half-finished house?)
Eventually, the guy drove me to the airport, and I checked in, only to find out that my flight was going to be delayed.
I had been up since 4am, and was starting to think that I might have to stay overnight in Berlin. While that in itself would not be a bad thing, I was in no mood to be so adventurous. The past two weeks have been particularly difficult for me, and for that matter, the entire month of May has been pretty nutty.
Of the four public holidays we had in May, I have worked 3 and half of them. I have managed til now to remain rather positive about things, but suddenly too many things are going the wrong way at the same time, and that is about the time I start to slip up, trip up, and ultimately flop around on the floor.
True, I tend to remain a swash-buckling ops guy who has a reputation for getting things done, but unfortunately with a fair amount of consequences, many of which I have been unable to rectify.
But never mind that, the simple fact was that at 9.30 on a Friday night, I was stuck at an airport, and was completely exhausted.
Furthermore, my favorite barman at my local was working his last shift at the pub on this evening. I wanted to at least get in and have a last couple of pints with him on that side of the bar, at the very least to be able to say thanks for all the nice times. (note - he is a personal friend, so I will certainly see him regularly, but as we all have our favorite staff at our favorite haunts, we all know that when it is time for one of them to move on, it is bit sentimental.)
Upon arrival in Frankfurt, I exited the terminal and got in the fastest looking taxi I saw, and headed for home. Indeed, the trip was quick, and I quickly threw my backpack into my flat, then walked over to the pub.
Although I can't really say I caught a second wind, I did feel better after a couple of pints and a few chats with folks who were clearly enjoying their evening already.
I sat down with a couple of friends, one a musician, the other a photographer, and relayed the events of the day, including the story of the unfortunate woman who had a suitcase land on her head earlier that morning.
I allowed myself to be talked into having a couple of shots of Sambuca, which was not the cleverest of things to do, but sort of fitting for the evening, all the same.
The musician plays mostly blue-grass, which is a bit unusual for Germany. However, the guy is a bit unusual anyway. His wife is from California, though she and I have never spoken anything but German together. We talked a bit about the Bouncing Souls, as well as some other groups, and about music in general.
I tend to practice piano about 45 minutes to an hour a day, and the other guy plays banjo. The conversation turned to identifying other ways to disturb our neighbors (though we never discussed playing together. probably for the best, as I am not a big fan of blue-grass)
The night wore on, and finally my friend the barman finished his shift, and we had a beer together, laughing about some of the good times (and bad) over the past several years. Another good friend of mine stopped working in the pub several years back, and her final day working in the pub was equally reflective: the recognition that one chapter is closing and another beginning.
Eventually, I needed to make my farewells, and the barman walked outside with me for a cigarette before I walked home. We took a few minutes to thank one another, embrace the future, and continue to laugh about anything and everything, despite the challenging times.
I walked upstairs and fell into bed, finally able to sleep after a really really day.
Honestly, I tend not to sleep all that well, presently. Thankfully, I get into the gym regularly, which helps to keep me healthy (physically, at least), Additionally, the days of staying out really late at the bar (Friday night being an exception) are few and far between. I much prefer to have a clearer head when morning comes, however early. But, when so much is going on, my mind always tends to race, both when I am resting or awake.
Working in an industry driven by rapidly advancing technology makes for a rather challenging, yet rewarding experience. I often think about the start of my career, and how far I have come. Likewise, I often speak with people who are just starting their careers, and have yet to experience as much as I have. While this is certainly acceptable, I frequently note the differences in cultures as well as groups. The new starts today have all the same questions and curiousities that I had when I was starting out, but today, these folks have different expectations, probably because we live in a different time.
20 years we were excited to have a handful of Macs in the computer lab, and had easily 50 telephone numbers of our friends memorized. Today, laptops are soon to be a thing of the past, and god help you if you lose your Smartphone, as you will certainly lose every single one of your contacts.
I certainly appreciate the changing times, and deal with it accordingly.
That said, I still greatly enjoy reminiscing, not least of all to help combat the unpleasant or discouraging thoughts that come from stress. (ie..."how am i going to get everything done? will we be able to meet the deadlines?, etc)
Last week, I was in Munich for a few days, and returned late Thursday night to find a small package waiting for me in my postbox. I went upstairs, quickly unpacked, then opened the little package to find a belated birthday card and a little tile with a photograph of one of my favorite rock clubs from my hometown.
The card explained that the gift "was made just for you," and went on to thank me for all the great memories there.
Indeed, the club Trees was where I tended to spend a good deal of my 20s and early 30s. It opened in 1990, and I can't even begin to imagine how many times I was there, and how many shows I saw. For the first two years that the club was open, I was still in college, and the summers of 1990, 1991, and 1992 were particularly memorable.
Then, after graduation, I was there even more often, and for sure saw some of the best shows of my life in the venue. Those were great times, and even as times (and ourselves, for that matter) changed, we always looked forward to the next show.
I probably saw my last show there in early 2005, and though it was conincidental (probably), the club closed soon after, and I moved abroad. As with all good things, they come to an end, and new good things begin.
I spent the last week thinking about so many of those fantastic nights, the great shows, plenty of beers, and good friends hanging out enjoying the scene.
While I did not realize at the time, Trees was a significant part of my life, and combined all the great things that I still have and thrive on today: music, friends, and dreams. And beer, of course.
I completely agree, Moe. Thanks so much for the little gift (that means so much). It was made for me.
Here's to the rest of the year bringing terrific surprises and fun.
See you out there.
