Being B with Bees on Vacation

This past week I was off of work, utilizing 5 of the 30 days of paid time off I receive each year.  The company policy states pretty clearly that each employee must use all of the days granted each year, or otherwise will forgo them.  In previous positions I have held, there were opportunities to carry over x amount of days into the following year. 

One of the most significant lessons I learned by coming to Europe was how to better under the whole concept of time off from work.  Coming from a country where the average employee only receives 10 days off per year (excluding public holidays), it was a little exciting to suddenly receive three times that amount.  But, I soon found that it was a lot more challenging to try and actually schedule that many days off per year. 

I was discussing this with a repair partner colleague 8 or 9 years ago, and although I suspected he did not truly comprehend my issue of having so many days off of work each year, he did acknowledge that it was best to put a plan together at the beginning of each year, so as to schedule all the days strategically and efficiently over the coming 12 months.  

My ultimate challenge seemed to come from the ability to plan.  How the hell should I know in January when I want to take time off of work in June or July? This is where interpretation of the meaning of vacation comes into play.  Additionally, one has the opportunity to learn a little about time management. 

When I was working in the states during the 90s and early 2000s, I tended to work myself hard, and hardly took time off.  Due to some tenure rules within the company I worked for, I did accrue additional vacation days as I approached 5, then 10 years of employment.  That actually created more difficulties for me at the time, since the work structure was such that there was enough work to do that one could theoretically never take time off.  However, there was a loophole that enabled an employee to receive cash in lieu of time off, and we also had a little creative plan in place that allowed for us to carry over vacation days into the next years.  Yes, I wrote that as plural. 

I actually had about 15 weeks of vacation accumulated at one point in 2003 or 2004.  

What I failed to realize at that time was how my not using my vacation days was impacting me physically and mentally. 

Part of me thought I would resolve that problem simply by moving to Europe.  In the world of Bryan, living in Europe is one of the best vacations of all time.  

On the other side, though, I still have the challenge of always having too much work to do, and too many vacation days that interrupt that work flow. 

When I changed jobs in 2010, I told myself I would improve on my vacation planning.  I would probably give myself a grade of B- for that effort. 

When I started this new job in January, I made a note to improve my effort on vacation planning, and strive for an A+.  

I am effectively in my probation period with the company.  By law, both the company and myself have an opportunity to decide after 6 months if the relationship is going okay and that we would continue the employment contract.  This is a pretty big deal in Europe, and I know a lot of people who suffer a lot of stress during their probation period, as they are so focused on the "prize" of receiving a permanent contract (which does allow for a lot of employee protection).  Sadly, I have seen too many examples where someone really exerts themselves during the probation, only to slack off once the contract was permanent.  

This idea is also difficult for me to understand, since I always seek to find a job that I actually WANT to do, and want to do WELL at.  

True, one can't help but have that "Probezeit" thought in the back of their minds when they begin a new position.  I have been fortunate that my employers were looking for a long term employee, so even in our initial discussions we were talking about my second and third year in the role.  Even with that reassurance, however, there is still a little creepy thought that at the end of the six months, someone from the HR department jumps out of a jack-in-the-box and shouts, "you are done!" as they send you on your way. 

It is funny how one forgets that the whole purpose of the probation is to make sure both parties are on the same page.  At my career level, this is a little more significant, mainly because of the salary involved, which includes the associated costs of training and development.  I intend no disrespect to positions like an admin clerk or a warehouse materials handler, but those are different types of jobs. 

At the end of my first month in the new role, we were asked to submit our vacation plan for the year, as they needed to be loaded into the personnel system in the HR department. 

Thanks to my conversation with the guy about planning, I recognized the importance of planning out my days off for the year well in advance.  What I found a little silly, though, was making this plan after working for only 4 weeks. 

I had a little chat with my boss, and he offered some decent advice on how to go about the exercise, and by early February, I had all 30 days of my annual leave loaded in the calendar.  During my planning, I reminded myself of all the times in my career where I "left it too late," meaning that I suddenly found myself overwhelmed, overworked, and desperate for time off, but still 2 months away from my scheduled break.  Had I simply taken a few days off more frequently throughout the year, I would not have found myself in such a state. 

Thus, I scheduled about 25% of my days off during the first six months of employment.  The other days I will take in the second half of the year.  Next year, I expect to allocate the time off even more equally, but I will worry about that next January. 

Most Germans that I know define Urlaub (vacation) using the first entry in the MW dictionary: a period of time spent away from home or business in travel or recreation.  I have a friend who works as a physical therapist, and because of the overtime he works (from the nature of the profession), he has a kazillion days off each year.  When we would gather at the Kiosk, we actually had to have a special calendar for him, since he ALWAYS seemed to be on vacation.  (This is something that always irritated workers and people doing business with Europeans; my father regularly complained that they were struggling to get anything done at one of the European plants because someone was always on vacation.)

What I have noticed while living here, is that no European seems to be too hung up on the idea of "someone is ALWAYS on vacation," mainly because they know that they will get their turn, too. So, it is those that do not have as much time off that tend to get a little worked up about it.  (To borrow the phrase, "when in Rome..." this is exactly why no one in Europe has a problem with all the shops being shut on a Sunday. It is just the way it is, so plan accordingly.)

My PT friend really does plan his vacation days, and he and his wife use those days to travel.  They are very enthusiastic about it, and really enjoy their time.  A photo of them hiking in the mountains could easily be shown next to the dictionary entry (entry 1, that is) to illustrate the example. 

He is not alone.  I have other friends who would suggest that I am not truly taking vacation when I take time of work, because I did not GO anywhere.  Even family visits, which in my case involves international travel, do not really qualify as vacation. 

I have a completely different opinion.  As a child, like everyone else, I looked forward to summer vacation from school, when we had almost three months to be out of the classroom, with no homework or academic obligations looming over our heads.  Ironically, in high school and university, I used my summer vacations to WORK.  But, before those years, I did look forward to our family going on vacation, erm, during summer vacation.  It was all about seeing somewhere different, experiencing something new, and for sure, all of those trips helped fuel my enthusiasm for travel, both domestic and international.  Those vacations that we took as a family are certainly in the entry 1 category of the dictionary definition.  Put an old photo of our family standing on the coast of California next to the photo of my friend and his wife hiking, if you like. 

As a (gulp) grown-up, I concede that I do not go away too often during my vacations.  But, I am quite fortunate, like I said, to appreciate the concept that by living abroad, I am constantly seeing somewhere different and experiencing something new.  I am thankful for that every single day.  

The trick, of course, is how to spend the time off from work.  Just about everyone in Europe right now is livid because of the current restrictions.  I totally understand that, but because of my view on vacations, I am not suffering like so many people who are unable to "go away" for their holidays.  I really feel for the families with children (since my own experiences on vacation during summer vacation were so great), and likewise, I feel for those individuals who do feel compelled to go off and spend a week on a beach, or doing whatever they normally like to do during their vacation. 

I know a fair amount of Germans who go to the same place each year on vacation, and that is simply not interesting to me.  But I am glad that they are enjoying what they do.  Likewise, visiting my sister in Spain year after year during my vacations 15 years on the trot is something I wanted to do, and I like to be afforded the same consideration. 

In short, it comes down to HOW you spend your vacation.  The key is doing something that you WANT to do.  Where you do it, how much you spend doing it, and who you do it with are all factors that you have to figure out yourself.  

I am no defeatist (though sometimes I play one on TV), but I think about all the people who exhausted themselves planning and paying for an event (a wedding, or a "dream" vacation, perhaps), only to find that the reality did not meet their expectations.  

While I tend to keep my expectations a bit lower, it is a personal decision.  A college friend used to joke that "if you assumed everything was going to suck, any little thing that was cool was a bonus."  That was a bit defeatist, in my opinion, but I understood his point.  I consider myself (and my personal decision making) somewhat higher on the scale, but it is still relative.  Relative to me. 

So, all of what I have just written brings me to my first week of vacation.  I scheduled the week for April simply to use 5 days of the 30.  And actually kind of forgot about it, until the 15th or 16th of April, when I realized, "crap, I am off next week."

Although I felt a little awkward taking a few days off so early in my new job, I realized that I have to start somewhere, and now was as good a time as any.  My goal for the week was to really switch off, and do things that I wanted to do.  If what I wanted to do involved thinking about work, so be it.  It would be my decision. 

Because of the restrictions, I would not really have the opportunity to try a new restaurant, or truth be told, do a whole lot socializing, but I did not let that stand in my way. 

I made a little list of things that I did want to do.  This provided a little structure, as some of the items were "to-dos" that I have been needing (and wanting) to do for some time, but just did not have the spare time to facilitate the task. 

Cleaning out the cupboard in my kitchen was one of the things on my list.  A friend of mine, upon visiting my flat for the first time about two years ago, was a little taken aback when he saw the clutter.  He made a comment as such, but I also pointed out that as a bachelor, one can take certain liberties.  He was looking at my flat thinking, "boy, my girlfriend would never allow this," and to that I respond, "by the way, I use paper towels as napkins,"  We all have our different tastes, values, and habits, and that is fine. 

I did recognize that the area did need some attention, and I was glad to take all the phone books from 2006 down to the paper recycling bins.  By Monday afternoon, I felt that I had improved the cupboard quite a bit, and sufficient to meet my standards.  I spent a couple of hours later on in the day working some puzzles.  As a birthday gift, my father sent me a virtual product offered by an online greeting card company.  Last year, he sent me a virtual garden, which enabled me to plant and cultivate little flowers and plants as I saw fit.  This year, he sent me something called a curio collection, which has a little setting of an international traveler's living room/study.  There are little activities like puzzles, games, and other activities that provide a unique and fun way to amuse yourself.  

This curio collection includes sudoku, which I really enjoy playing.  I received a little book of sudoku puzzles one year in my Christmas stocking, and I have been hooked ever since.  That does not mean that I have regularly played the game, though.  In fact, I probably have not done a sudoku in 10 years.  So, I made up for it this week, getting a puzzle or two done each morning while I enjoyed my first coffee. 

On Tuesday, I made the spontaneous decision to clean the crud off of my steaming wand on my espresso machine.  I probably left that a little longer than I should have, but we won't dwell on that.  The little tabs I have do a great job of cleaning things up.  And it was nice to tick another thing of the list. 

After an enlightening conversation last weekend with Pablo, I started practicing my swiping technique.  This came about as we traded experiences with typing text messages on mobile phones in multiple languages.  I must say, it is kind of a fun experience.  I am basically just squiggling my finger around on the keypad on my phone's display, and the word I want just pops up, whether it be in German or English, or Spanish.  Cool. 

As the week continued, I just enjoyed my time doing whatever the hell I felt like doing.  If I felt like swiping, I swiped.  If I wanted to tickle the ivories, I sat down at the piano.  I took time to reflect and think, sometimes about work.  Not about work, work, per se, but more along the lines of assessing my experience so far in the almost four months on the job.  What do I want to improve? How do I want to approach my customers?   

I found this very satisfying, similar to the way one gets bright ideas at random times.  The composer who suddenly finds a new melody in their head when purchasing produce at the market, for example.  Or, like in my case, where some of my best ideas come right about the time I am getting in the shower. 

The weather is finally starting to get a little warmer, a little more spring like.  The evenings and nights are pretty cool, but the days when the sun shines get kind of pleasant.  Plants are coming to life, including a little bushy tree that has popped up outside of my balcony.  This tree has some blossoms that seem to attract a fair amount of bees, which I discovered as two buzzed into my kitchen, taking advantage of the open balcony door.  We had a nice little chat and then I swatted them back outside, allowing them to come back inside as and when they felt inclined. 

I was feeling like I was making good use of my vacation days.  Other than allow my thoughts to wander, I did not think too much about work, choosing instead to focus on doing what I felt like doing, which is closer to my definition of vacation. 

There is no requirement that a vacation include "trying something new," but in the spirit of being able to experience something different, I got that chance on Thursday evening.  

I have never been one who gets psyched up about tupperware parties, or group events where people come together.  Throw bridal showers and book clubs into this.  That is not to say that I have not participated in those things; I am just saying I do not actively seek them out as "gee, gotta do this" activities.  

Enter a whatsapp party, involving cleaning products, kind of keeping in line with spring cleaning.  Nadja's sister presented various things via the text messaging group.  Videos were shared to show how products worked, and all of the participants could message their questions into the group.  

It was fascinating.  

For the better part of three hours, I learned about all kinds of stuff to better clean (sandblast) my apartment.  We were asked to provide pictures of our "problem zones," but I declined that offer on the grounds that I am not about to show my crud and clutter to too many people.  I knew a few of the other guests at the virtual party, and tried to keep my humorous and witty remarks to a minimum.  

It was a good time, and I really enjoyed it.  And I said as such when I placed my order for a few items that I needed.  It was funny to see how the guests were all interacting as if we were all sitting in someone's living room doing everything in person.  Obviously, the whole thing was done in German, which was fine by me.  Again, I held my tongue and thumbs when the odd word popped up like "fluffy" (referring to one of the cleaning cloths) or "Mr. Flexible" referring to one of the mops.  

I finished my week with a visit to the dentist, which was also a pleasant experience.  I happen to like going to the dentist, despite how that might sound.  My teeth are pretty good, so that explains a lot; no crud or fluffis to be had there.  And now, after yesterday's cleaning, no tartar build up, either.  

Now, it is the weekend, and I feel like I made good use of my time off.  I look forward to returning to work on Monday, but first am going to enjoy the rest of weekend, being B.  

see you out there

bryan

Hey, Buddy, Is it a Big Day?

Most folks will remember that I am not a huge fan of birthdays, but that is not to say that I do not appreciate them.  I simply fall into the category of those that prefer to celebrate a little more quietly instead of organizing a big do.  

This year, I decided to turn things up a notch, so today's post will be a little shorter, due do the ongoing festivities.  Even as I type this, a lively round of Pin the Tail on the Donkey is going on in the living room, and hell, it is only 8h30 in the morning.  Later on, once the police have left, I hope to incite a spirited game of running up and down the street carrying an egg in a spoon as fast as possible.  Whoever drops the egg first then has to stand there and allow everyone else to pelt them with eggs.  I may have to change the rules as we go; I will play it by ear. 

A friend of mine had a birthday the other Sunday, and when I was sending him a greeting, I discovered the number of times he has celebrated his birthday directly on Easter Sunday.  I found that particularly cool, for some reason, and that outweighed the fact that even though my birthday sometimes occurs during the Easter season, I STILL have not had a birthday falling directly on Easter Sunday.  My friend is not yet half my age, and he has just had his 3rd birthday on Easter. 

These kinds of facts are extremely important to me, and I really cannot explain why.  Perhaps it is just my fascination with unusual trivia.  When I was in elementary school, there was kind of an unwritten rule that when you had a birthday, you brought cupcakes to school to share with the entire class.  Back then, the world was a safer and nicer place.  The mothers apparently coordinated this effort pretty well, because there were ALWAYS enough cupcakes for everyone.  

It was always fun when several students had birthdays in the same month, since that increased our sugar intake.  Once in awhile, I thought about all the students who had birthdays in the summer.  They never got to bring cupcakes to school. 

Likewise, the kids that were born on the 25th of December always seemed to get a kind of raw deal, when considering present receiving opportunities.  

I actually have a friend who was born on the 1st of April, and I kind of regret the fact that I never got to discuss this with her.  (During those cupcake years, April Fool's Day was also a pretty big deal.)

When I was in college, I took a course called Probability and Statistics.  This was to fulfill the mathematical requirement of my degree work.  Math and I were not always the best of friends, and rather than bring up those unpleasant memories, I will simply say that had it been my decision instead of my mother's, I would not have brought cupcakes to Trig, Pre-Calc, and Elementary Analysis.  

On the first day of my prob-stats course, the professor stood at the front of the room and bet us that at least two of sitting in the classroom shared the same birthday.  We all scoffed at the statement, and we laughed as we went through about three-quarters of the students, confirming birthdays.  

The professor found a match on the second to last student, and I must say that it was a pretty cool party trick.  

At that time, I had never met anyone that shared the same birthday as me.  From time to time in my childhood (or even adolescence), I would receive a little list of facts with my birthday card, which provided trivial (but interesting) information.  For example, the sheet listed the price of milk or a gallon of gasoline from one's birth year.  This allowed you to see how things have evolved. 

Inevitably, the list also provided the names of famous people who shared the birthday.  I was always disappointed, because there was no one "cool" on my list.  True, in some circles, JP Morgan is probably considered very cool, but at the time I was seeing the information, I did not know who he was.  Keep in mind, I was rather young.  Cool for me would have been, "Mozart was born on 17 April," or something like that.  So, my lists (which were rather short) only included a few people, most of which had died way before I was even born. 

In my 20s, I discovered an author who I immediately connected to.  There was a time when I simply was saying, "All of his works are my favorite."  Then one day, I found out that his favorite football club is the same as mine.  I had to sit down when I realized that on top of all that, he and I have the same birthday.  Finally, somebody cool.  (I recently saw the series that he wrote, "State of the Union," and think it is brilliant.)

It is probably no surprise that I actually dreamed about the guy earlier this week (during the birthday countdown sleeps).  It was a little odd that Nick Hornby would approach me in the dairy section of my local Rewe, but the fact that he reminded me to pay close attention to what kind of milk I was buying was particularly surprising.  I regularly confuse the 1,5% and 3,5% milk in the dairy case, because all the milk bottles have the same color and are stored side by side.  You are probably thinking, "gee, the guy was born on the 1st of April instead of the 17th" but in fairness, when you start grabbing the milk from the shelf, you assume that they are all the same.  Unfortunately the milk elves (otherwise known as the employee that I most certainly would not have given a cupcake to back in third grade) are a little casual when they are restocking.  Thus, sometimes I am sitting at home thinking, "gosh, this 1,5% milk tastes particularly whole, only to find out that it is, indeed, whole milk (3,5% in Germany). 

At any rate, as the dream continued, Nick suggested that I get extra big eggs (for the spoon run later today) as I moved on through the store to finish my shopping. 

So, around the age of 25, I found that I share a birthday with a cool famous person, and that has fulfilled one element of the birthday bit. 

A few years ago, I was fortunate to be standing next to two friends who discovered that they shared the same birthday.  The 7 year old kind of took it in stride, but what I found more intriguing was how Mono reacted.  OK, "react" is probably too strong a word.  However, Mono, who also falls into the category of "birthdays are not that big of deal," did remark quietly that he and SC were birthday buddies.  

And suddenly I wanted a birthday buddy, too.  

Fast forward to last November, when I was discussing my new job offer with my soon to be boss.  "Bryan, I did not want to mention this in the interview, but you and I share the same birthday."

Of course I had to take the job, and I might even make him a cupcake. 

Here's to celebrating as extravagantly or quietly as one sees fit.  

keep the faith, buddy

bryan

The Economics of My Stimulating Soccer Subscriptions

When the email arrived last weekend confirming that my tax return had been accepted by the government, I smiled tentatively.  Yes, my electronic return had passed through the algorithm (three tries, in total), and now, I just need to wait a few weeks or so in hopes that no letter arrives from the IRS indicating that I made mistakes on my return or that I will soon be audited.  

I touched on this topic a few weeks ago, as I always feel a little stress during tax time.  All things considered, my return is pretty straight forward, but still, I cannot help feeling like I missed something, or forgot to submit a form, or whatever.  The funny thing is, you never actually get a notification that everything went fine; you only get notified if you mess it up.  The confirmation I received was merely to notify me that I had not messed up the electronic portion of the filing.  Thus, I filled in all the fields correctly, but that does not necessarily the field was completed with the correct information. 

Now, I will stay alert for the next month, in case my father contacts me with news that he has a letter for me from our government friends.  As we move into summer, I will gradually forget about the whole experience, until this time next year. 

The return filing is all about staying consistent, in my opinion.  Since I have lived in Europe, nothing has really changed in my process:  I claim my wages on the form, then submit another form which kind of backs those wages out, resulting in a taxable income of basically zero.  It sounds so straight forward until they make changes to any of the forms, requiring you to include additional information.  A couple of years ago I got tripped up by the change from the EZ to the non-EZ form that one files when living outside of the US.  I navigated through that challenge, and will wait for whatever comes next time, which will likely have to do with my foreign financial assets or how I report being unemployed while living abroad.  I will wait and see what happens. 

My sister is having a more complicated time with her return.  On the surface, her return seems about as straight forward as mine, but then the brain starts asking questions.  Admittedly , most of those questions are valid, but I have noticed that she gets caught up in the same Baustelle as I tend to do:  we keep finding ways to identify that our circumstances are not shown anywhere on the instruction forms under the "exception" section.  Both she and I share the habit of overthinking things, and then the imagination kicks in to the highest gear.  Normally, this is when you reach out to someone for experience sharing, but therein lies the challenge.  It is not as if there are that many people living where we live that are filing US tax returns.  I do happen to know a handful of Americans that I felt comfortable discussing this topic with, but was dismayed to find out that most of them had not even filed a US return in many years.  In my sister's case, she has even fewer resources to speak with. 

So she turns to me. 

And we get through it, as always. 

When I was in college, a friend of mine (one with similar aspirations to move abroad, or at the very least,  work in an international environment) and I regularly gave ourselves the title, "International accountants at law," which is one of those silly things you do in your senior year of school during late nights while eating Little Caesars pizza and finishing a project for one of your classes.  

Ironically, both of us do now live abroad, and while I have truly lost contact with Nate, I suspect that he is no stronger in the subject matter of law or accountancy than I am.  No need to change our title to International Doofus, since we are clever cats, but it goes without saying that I am not a specialist in either of those two professions. 

Economics, however, is another story.  I must say that the world according to me is fairly simple, particularly from a financial perspective.  I have been debt free for over 20 years, and that is such a good feeling that it helps me justify the ridiculous habit I had when I was spending 20 USD per DAY on coffees back when I was still in Dallas.  Despite having a cute little espresso machine at home, I was still spending said amount on coffees out and about, then buying bean to go home and play barista at little Goliad. 

As I take another sip of my beverage just now, I admire my beautiful espresso machine standing in the corner.  It was a great investment, considering that I now enjoy the majority of my coffees at home.  Despite the price tag of the machine, it paid for itself rather quickly.  Maybe not in the same time frame I could have done back in 2003 when I was drinking (paying for) 6 double espressos per day at a minimum (note - the title "International Account at Law who is particularly focused on really good health" never really fit), but still, pretty close.  

Beverage consumption is always relative, but I found myself irritated this week when I was logging in to a couple of my sports channels to watch some Arsenal matches.  

Back in 2003, when I was regularly receiving customer of the month awards from my local coffee place, I found myself really wanting to be able to watch English football matches.  Back then, there was really only one network that was broadcasting European soccer.  If you had access to the channel, you had a reasonable chance of seeing a lot of matches.  At the time, the US market tended to show all the games of the big teams; those teams that were usually at the top of the table.  My team happened to be at the top of the table a lot, so I was keen to be able to see the matches. 

True, the pubs would show some matches, and, as I was already spending a great deal of time at the pub anyway, I would usually go and watch in the company of friends and a handful of beers.  But, sometimes the noon kickoffs made it more difficult to view the match from the pub, as not every pub felt like opening up at 6am just for 4 guys to come in and stare at a television. 

The solution came when Chris suggested that I piggy back on his cable service.  I jumped at the opportunity, but got a little annoyed when I had to pay "extra" for around 150 obscure channels, simply because that was the ONLY way to get access to the ONE channel I needed to watch the match.  

All in all, I might have paid about 30 or 40 bucks a month, just to have that channel.  I was not interested in any of the other broadcasting, and to stay consistent, I still am not a huge fan of simply watching television.  Despite some of my posts that suggest that I do watch a fair amount of TV, I am referring mainly to sports networks, here.  When I had access to Fox Soccer Network, I did watch a game or two during the weekend, but then never tuned in again during the week.  At the rates I was paying, I calculated about a dollar a day to have the opportunity to watch a match if I felt so inclined. 

If Arsenal only played once a month at 6am Dallas time, then one could consider it to be a very expensive pay for view.  I did not.  I always reminded myself that it cost me only a dollar a day to be able to see Arsenal at home in the privacy of my flat.  

A couple of years ago, after I purchased my smart TV, I avoided most subscription channels.  My pub showed all the matches, and 9 times out of 10, I could see almost every Arsenal match.  There was a small conflict when Eintracht played at the same time, simply because the pub rules go to the local crowd:  better for a pub full of Frankfurt fans drinking heavily than an mostly empty pub with 3 or 4 guys watching Arsenal.  I understood that, and it made sense to me. 

DAZN came to my rescue in 2018, when it started offering English football coverage.  The subscription fees were around 10 euro per month, without any long contract or sign up fees.  Thus, I was able to spend less than 30 euro cents per day to have the OPPORTUNITY to watch Arsenal on those days when their match took place when Eintracht were playing. 

In my world, I did not think about the 30 cents, but rather the 2 beers that equated to the subscription price.  It was certainly worth 2 beers to be able to watch an Arsenal match without the distraction of another match (and shouty fans) happening simultaneously.  Still, I found myself spending more time in the pub during those matches anyway, as I do enjoy the company of watching along with other fans. 

As competition increased, suddenly every company was jockeying for access rights to league football. Although I am fan of German football, it is the English football I want to see. In order to do this, I now have to maintain multiple subscriptions to ensure complete coverage of league matches, cup matches, etc.  Fast forward to this past week, as I watched one Arsenal match on my Sky subscription site, followed a few days later by another match on the DAZN site.  I am now paying about 30 euros per month still with the intent to HAVE the opportunity to watch the Arsenal should I have the desire.  Since the pubs have all been closed for the past 6 months, this outlay seems more than justifiable.  For a euro a day (or 6 beers), I can see all of the Arsenal matches. 

What is my problem with this?

My team is playing like crap, that is the problem.  Suddenly, spending 30 euro a month to watch my team play like shit no longer seems like a very good use of my discretionary income.  I have no real interest in watching other highlights or matches (though I could), so I tune in only when my team is playing.  Thus, I have spent over a 100 euro this year watching Arsenal lose a lot of games.  We as fans can become irrational very quickly, so the fact that in the same time period I have probably saved 10 times that amount has no significance here.  

My boss, referring to his own team earlier this week, said it best.  Football really isn't important, but at the same time, it is EXTREMELY important.  It does matter. 

I totally understand his comment, and can only hope that my team improve their performance quickly. 

Meanwhile, I now have a bit of a feeling that I will find myself getting my tax return audited by some guy from the states, who just happens to be a Tottenham fan. 

Neat. 

Thank goodness I actually made money on the lattes I consumed this morning while I wrote this. 

See you out there

bryan

Savoring Peculiarity

I will thank Chris for indirectly contributing to this week's title...

A couple of weeks ago, my father called me and opened the conversation with the statement, "I got t-boned yesterday."

I actually did not immediately know what he meant.  Within a few seconds, I realized that he had some sort of an accident, which, while a bit concerning, could not have been too significant considering he was sitting in front of his webcam talking to me.  He went on to explain that he had been broadsided by someone coming out of a gas station on a stretch of road in the neighborhood. 

The incident was minor, all things considered, and I am quite relieved to know that no one was hurt, and he is now the owner of a new car, which he was about to buy anyway.  

A felt a little foolish as I wondered why (or how) I never seem to have added that expression to my vocabulary.  During that conversation, I was just about to ask, "well, did you grill or fry the steaks?" before I realized that he normally would not start a conversation talking about what he ate the day before. 

A couple of days later, I asked a friend if he was familiar with the expression, and it took him a moment before he responded. "Is it some sort of an accident?" 

I looked up the term, and apparently it has been used in this context since the late 1960s.  However, I do not recall anyone ever referring to an automobile accident in such a way.  In Drivers Education, the instructor never said anything like, "Hey, look out when driving through an intersection, lest you get t-boned by another driver." 

So, chalk up another opportunity to learn something new. 

It must have been my lucky week, because a couple of days later, my German boss made a reference to the Großer Wagen, which is known to the American reader as the Big Dipper.  My boss was asking me if we had similar references in English, as he was using the term in a sort of joke.   I felt ridiculous, because I did not have the slightest idea what he talking about.  For starters, I am not so interested in the constellations, and as a result, have not yet learned the German terms.  Sure, I know a little about the Sternbilder, but most of that is from childhood camping trips, when we had the opportunity to look up at the nighttime sky. 

Secondly, in my lifetime I have never heard a joke in any language that involves the constellations.  

The two incidents gave me stuff to think about over the next days.  Random thoughts would come to me, usually while I was showering.  I remembered looking back at the polite charming lady offering a promotion at the grocery store one Thanksgiving and asking, "What is a Turkey Buck?" 

Another day as I rinsed suds from my shoulder, I wondered about that time back in 1980 when all the parents had to explain what freebasing was to their kids, who were curiously asking about it after the recent antics from Richard Pryor.  

Neither Turkey Bucks nor cocaine are interesting to me, but hearing the terms and thinking about the context are.  

Part of the joy of experiencing and learning about other cultures and languages is the opportunity to embarrass oneself, as I did in Spain one evening years ago when asked how my Spanish knowledge was coming.  "Are you learning Spanish in bed?" asked a fellow member of the choir I was in. 

"Why yes, I do read a lot in bed before going to sleep, and now I am reading more and more in Spanish," I earnestly responded, totally missing his reference.  He was asking if I had a girlfriend.  

In Spain, most of the guys used the term "tio" frequently when conversing with each other.  Upon arrival in Germany, I heard "Alter" a lot more.  Both terms became more clear to me once I realized that people were not referring to uncles or ages, but instead, simply saying "dude" or "man."  

Sometimes, I feel inclined to use an American reference, even with the knowledge that my German friends won't have the slightest idea what I am talking about. "Son, your body is writing checks it can't cash," or "they look like two monkeys fucking a football,"  are two movie quotes that almost no German would know.  This is no surprise, since neither movie is particularly well known outside of the US, and furthermore, neither statement translates so well into another language.  

The fact is, I am using the reference for my own amusement.  The timing has to be right, as does the context, and to be honest, there are not that many occasions when that moment presents itself.  

When it does, though, you know what I do?

I savor it. 

And there is nothing peculiar about that.  

happy Easter.  In fact, "thanks Easter Bunny! Bock Bock!"