Back at Yorckschlößchen, gestresst. I walk up to the bar and ask about crisps. 'Sie haben nur Prawn Cocktail? Oh, und Marmite, schrecklich.' A man at the bar tells me that in the basement is a big box of crisps with many other flavours. 'Jerry will bring them up for you.'
I go outside. There's a slight breeze. Jerry comes out and lays out Smoky Bacon! Cheese and Onion! Ready Salted! 'Smoky Bacon!' I say. 'Wow!' Jerry goes back inside. Katrin comes out and says they have Cheese and Onion.
I've been trying to get my website transferred from Flash to Dreamweaver. Bad news.
For the 79% of readers who use Windows, here's a link to MicroCharts, which has some great add-ins for producing Tuftean data displays using Excel.
Showing posts with label Yorcksclosschen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yorcksclosschen. Show all posts
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Salt & Vinegar Crisps at Yorckschloßchen
The phone line is still down. I may have inadvertently terminated my account with Deutsche Telekom.
Went to Yorckschloßchen, the jazz café on the corner, which has free W-LAN.
A man comes over and starts asking me about my Mac. His German is excellent but it sounds to me as though it has the accent of an English speaker. I ask if he speaks English; he says he is American.
He is asking about the new dual-core processor on Macs; he says he used to have a Mac but we live in a Windows world, but he has heard that on the new Macs you could run Windows programs and there is nothing like a Mac. I say mine can’t do that. I says I used a Mac because it was good for multilingual word processing.
He says his name is Alexander Frey (pronounced Fry); that he is a conductor. He has lived in Berlin for 16 years. He used to live in LA. He said of all the major cities in the world this was the one he would choose to live in. If he couldn’t live in Berlin he would pick Vienna -- it’s smaller, but the music is incredible.
He says: If you go to the cemetery in Vienna you see these graves in a row. Side by side. Beethoven. Brahms. Schubert.
I try to take this in. I am thinking of what Beethoven did when he had command of a body. I’m thinking of what Brahms did when he had command of a body. I’m thinking of what Schubert did when he had command of a body. Now there are 3 skeletons in boxes. Frey names some more names. He says: And there is one composer who is not buried in that row, he insisted on having a grave in a separate place, and instead of a grand moss-covered mausoleum he has (but now I forgot how this grave was described, I think it was) a single cube with a line going through it -- that is Arnold Schoenberg. Schoenberg spent the end of his live in LA, but he chose to be buried in Vienna.
I find this terribly moving. My contribution to the conversation at this point (and for most of what follows) is WOW. (WOW was also my response to the graves of Beethoven, Brahms and Schubert.)
Frey says Schoenberg changed his mind about tonality. He goes on to talk about pupils of Schoenberg who wrote film scores. He says he is about to go to Mexico City to conduct Verklärte Nacht, and in the programme he is also including Bernard Hermann’s score for Vertigo and Waxman’s score for Jekyll and Hyde. WOW. I remember nothing about the soundtrack for Vertigo but Frey starts singing examples, WOW.
He starts telling stories about Korngold, a composer of extraordinary precocity. Korngold was brought to Hollywood by Max Reinhardt. When he had finished the work Reinhardt had asked him to do Warner Brothers asked him to stay on as head of music, but he said No, he couldn’t do that, he had too many projects he had to see through in Europe, he had to get back. Jack Warner kept asking him to stay and he kept saying No. He booked a ticket on a ship back to Europe and Warner secretly booked a ticket on the same ship; as the ship crossed the Atlantic Warner kept begging him to change his mind and Korngold kept saying No. Then news came to the ship by radio that the Germans had entered Austria. Korngold and Warner, both Jews, were sitting in a room together when the news was announced. Korngold looked at Warner and said: I’ll sign.
Went to Yorckschloßchen, the jazz café on the corner, which has free W-LAN.
A man comes over and starts asking me about my Mac. His German is excellent but it sounds to me as though it has the accent of an English speaker. I ask if he speaks English; he says he is American.
He is asking about the new dual-core processor on Macs; he says he used to have a Mac but we live in a Windows world, but he has heard that on the new Macs you could run Windows programs and there is nothing like a Mac. I say mine can’t do that. I says I used a Mac because it was good for multilingual word processing.
He says his name is Alexander Frey (pronounced Fry); that he is a conductor. He has lived in Berlin for 16 years. He used to live in LA. He said of all the major cities in the world this was the one he would choose to live in. If he couldn’t live in Berlin he would pick Vienna -- it’s smaller, but the music is incredible.
He says: If you go to the cemetery in Vienna you see these graves in a row. Side by side. Beethoven. Brahms. Schubert.
I try to take this in. I am thinking of what Beethoven did when he had command of a body. I’m thinking of what Brahms did when he had command of a body. I’m thinking of what Schubert did when he had command of a body. Now there are 3 skeletons in boxes. Frey names some more names. He says: And there is one composer who is not buried in that row, he insisted on having a grave in a separate place, and instead of a grand moss-covered mausoleum he has (but now I forgot how this grave was described, I think it was) a single cube with a line going through it -- that is Arnold Schoenberg. Schoenberg spent the end of his live in LA, but he chose to be buried in Vienna.
I find this terribly moving. My contribution to the conversation at this point (and for most of what follows) is WOW. (WOW was also my response to the graves of Beethoven, Brahms and Schubert.)
Frey says Schoenberg changed his mind about tonality. He goes on to talk about pupils of Schoenberg who wrote film scores. He says he is about to go to Mexico City to conduct Verklärte Nacht, and in the programme he is also including Bernard Hermann’s score for Vertigo and Waxman’s score for Jekyll and Hyde. WOW. I remember nothing about the soundtrack for Vertigo but Frey starts singing examples, WOW.
He starts telling stories about Korngold, a composer of extraordinary precocity. Korngold was brought to Hollywood by Max Reinhardt. When he had finished the work Reinhardt had asked him to do Warner Brothers asked him to stay on as head of music, but he said No, he couldn’t do that, he had too many projects he had to see through in Europe, he had to get back. Jack Warner kept asking him to stay and he kept saying No. He booked a ticket on a ship back to Europe and Warner secretly booked a ticket on the same ship; as the ship crossed the Atlantic Warner kept begging him to change his mind and Korngold kept saying No. Then news came to the ship by radio that the Germans had entered Austria. Korngold and Warner, both Jews, were sitting in a room together when the news was announced. Korngold looked at Warner and said: I’ll sign.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Find one find all
I forget things.
My rent is 411 euros a month, but the cost of living goes up when there are too many things in my head. I am thinking about the book that needs a publisher and the agent who is looking for a publisher and the book I put aside a year ago and the book I am starting from scratch and I walk out the door without my keys.
The Schlusseldienst charges 50 euros to open the door. So walking out the door just once a month without my keys raises the cost of the apartment to 461 euros a month. Or more.
I go to the Schlusseldienst and tell him I am locked out and he tells me he can meet me at the apartment at siebzehn Uhr, 1700 and I say fine. It's 4.30. The mind which is taken up with the three books and the agent seizes on the 7 and thinks 7 o'clock, a long time to wait but it has to be done. I go to Yorckschlosschen, the jazz café on my corner, and order a Jever and Smoky Bacon Walker's Crisps. I read the café's copy of the Frankfurter Allgemeine, I think about the three books, time goes by, it's only 5 pm, it's 5.30 pm, I order another Jever, it's 6 pm, it's 6.30 pm, I pay, I leave. As I walk down the street to my house "siebzehn Uhr" goes through my mind and I think: 1700. 1700. 1700. Which is 5 o'clock. And now, of course, the Schlusseldienst is closed. What can I do? Where can I go?
My friend Ingrid Kerma is a painter who lives in London but has an apartment in Berlin near Kotbusser Tor. The key is kept by Barbara Colosseus, the web diva who designed my website and lives two floors up from Ingrid. I don't have Barbara's number. I take the U1 to Kotbusser Tor, go to Ingrid's place in Naunynstraße, ring Barbara's bell. She's there.
I let myself into Ingrid's apartment, call her to tell her I'm spending the night there. It feels pretty good.
In the morning I go to the bank for more cash. I think of the locksmith turning up at my apartment at 5pm, waiting for me, wondering what to do; I feel terrible. I need to apologise, I need to grovel, I need to offer more money, I need to atone. I pass a flower stall and buy 30 tulips for 12 euros. I go back to the Schlusseldienst, I explain in broken German about the 24-hour clock and the confusion this causes those who have not grown up with it, I give him 30 tulips, I apologise. This time the Schlusseldienst takes me to the apartment in his car. I offer more money but he says No, no that's fine.
In a separate but unrelated incident I am thinking about the three books and my agent and put water on to boil for pasta and go back to my laptop to work on one of the books or perhaps write to my agent. It's late. I go to bed. In the morning I go to the kitchen and the gas is still on under a dry pan with a blackened bottom.
Sometimes I lose things in the apartment. Every surface is covered with papers. I know the keys are here somewhere because I could not be in the apartment if I had not had the keys. So I can't leave the apartment without looking under all the papers until I find the keys.
Sometimes I put things in a safe place. I put my driver's licence, which I seldom use, in a safe place. I put my passport in a safe place. Later I remember that I put these documents in a safe place, but I can't remember what I thought would be a safe place.
Find One Find All is a device that can be attached to various things that get lost (key rings, wallet, remote control). Each object has a code. The device has a keypad. If you have located one of the objects, you can key in the code of a missing object on the keypad and the FOFA of the missing object will emit a signal enabling you to track it down.
It will not help you remember that you put water on to boil. It will not stop you walking out the door without your keys. But perhaps you've had this experience. You need a phone number. It's in your mobile phone. You can't find the phone. There are papers everywhere; you ransack the place but you can't find the phone. You call it on your landline; the William Tell overture burbles merrily from your pocket. You can't use your landline to contact your keys, your wallet, your driver's licence, your passport. FOFA might do the trick.
My rent is 411 euros a month, but the cost of living goes up when there are too many things in my head. I am thinking about the book that needs a publisher and the agent who is looking for a publisher and the book I put aside a year ago and the book I am starting from scratch and I walk out the door without my keys.
The Schlusseldienst charges 50 euros to open the door. So walking out the door just once a month without my keys raises the cost of the apartment to 461 euros a month. Or more.
I go to the Schlusseldienst and tell him I am locked out and he tells me he can meet me at the apartment at siebzehn Uhr, 1700 and I say fine. It's 4.30. The mind which is taken up with the three books and the agent seizes on the 7 and thinks 7 o'clock, a long time to wait but it has to be done. I go to Yorckschlosschen, the jazz café on my corner, and order a Jever and Smoky Bacon Walker's Crisps. I read the café's copy of the Frankfurter Allgemeine, I think about the three books, time goes by, it's only 5 pm, it's 5.30 pm, I order another Jever, it's 6 pm, it's 6.30 pm, I pay, I leave. As I walk down the street to my house "siebzehn Uhr" goes through my mind and I think: 1700. 1700. 1700. Which is 5 o'clock. And now, of course, the Schlusseldienst is closed. What can I do? Where can I go?
My friend Ingrid Kerma is a painter who lives in London but has an apartment in Berlin near Kotbusser Tor. The key is kept by Barbara Colosseus, the web diva who designed my website and lives two floors up from Ingrid. I don't have Barbara's number. I take the U1 to Kotbusser Tor, go to Ingrid's place in Naunynstraße, ring Barbara's bell. She's there.
I let myself into Ingrid's apartment, call her to tell her I'm spending the night there. It feels pretty good.
In the morning I go to the bank for more cash. I think of the locksmith turning up at my apartment at 5pm, waiting for me, wondering what to do; I feel terrible. I need to apologise, I need to grovel, I need to offer more money, I need to atone. I pass a flower stall and buy 30 tulips for 12 euros. I go back to the Schlusseldienst, I explain in broken German about the 24-hour clock and the confusion this causes those who have not grown up with it, I give him 30 tulips, I apologise. This time the Schlusseldienst takes me to the apartment in his car. I offer more money but he says No, no that's fine.
In a separate but unrelated incident I am thinking about the three books and my agent and put water on to boil for pasta and go back to my laptop to work on one of the books or perhaps write to my agent. It's late. I go to bed. In the morning I go to the kitchen and the gas is still on under a dry pan with a blackened bottom.
Sometimes I lose things in the apartment. Every surface is covered with papers. I know the keys are here somewhere because I could not be in the apartment if I had not had the keys. So I can't leave the apartment without looking under all the papers until I find the keys.
Sometimes I put things in a safe place. I put my driver's licence, which I seldom use, in a safe place. I put my passport in a safe place. Later I remember that I put these documents in a safe place, but I can't remember what I thought would be a safe place.
Find One Find All is a device that can be attached to various things that get lost (key rings, wallet, remote control). Each object has a code. The device has a keypad. If you have located one of the objects, you can key in the code of a missing object on the keypad and the FOFA of the missing object will emit a signal enabling you to track it down.
It will not help you remember that you put water on to boil. It will not stop you walking out the door without your keys. But perhaps you've had this experience. You need a phone number. It's in your mobile phone. You can't find the phone. There are papers everywhere; you ransack the place but you can't find the phone. You call it on your landline; the William Tell overture burbles merrily from your pocket. You can't use your landline to contact your keys, your wallet, your driver's licence, your passport. FOFA might do the trick.
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