The Small Escape

 

 

Forget about Steve McQueen and his "Great Escape"; here is "The Small Escape" across the Berlin Wall in an escape plan that was as brilliant as it was crazy: since large vehicles were getting controlled more frequently and thoroughly, a West Berliner had the seemingly impossible but ingenious idea of using the smallest and most inconspicuous car available at the time, the BMW Isetta, to help him smuggle a man across the border into the West.

Here is the full story of that daring escape - click here - and here is a clip of the "bubble car", the BMW Isetta, which made it all possible:

 

 

My older brother who is getting on in years - when Mozart was his age, he'd already been dead for fifty-eight years - owned a BMW Isetta which he traded in for something bigger when his daughter was born in 1959.

I bought my first car in 1963, a second-hand FIAT 500, which broke down not long afterwards. It taught me a lesson as I had to keep paying it off. I made my very last repayment just weeks before I boarded the ship bound for Australia, after which I never owned another car until 1973.

Now I drive a Chinese-built MG3 as I can't afford a BMW Isetta which sells for well over $40,000. Here is one that sold in Sydney for $45,500!

 

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Another beautiful Australian movie

 

 

Twin Rivers is a 2007 South Australian feature film set in the Depression-ravaged Australian outback of 1939 Australia. Two brothers, Thomas Norton and William Norton, embark on a 500-mile journey on foot across south-eastern Australia.

When their money is stolen by a fellow traveller, the two brothers find themselves working in the township of Riverton. New friendships and romance challenge the brother's loyalty to each other and their original plans, leading to a bitter separation.

Watch it before it disappears from YouTube again. I just did.

 

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"Wer einsam ist, der hat es gut!"

 

 

Der Einsame Wer einsam ist, der hat es gut, Weil keiner da, der ihm was tut. Ihn stört in seinem Lustrevier Kein Tier, kein Mensch und kein Klavier, Und niemand gibt ihm weise Lehren, Die gut gemeint und bös zu hören. Der Welt entronnen, geht er still In Filzpantoffeln, wann er will. Sogar im Schlafrock wandelt er Bequem den ganzen Tag umher. Er kennt kein weibliches Verbot, Drum raucht und dampft er wie ein Schlot. Geschützt vor fremden Späherblicken, Kann er sich selbst die Hose flicken. Liebt er Musik, so darf er flöten, Um angenehm die Zeit zu töten, Und laut und kräftig darf er prusten, Und ohne Rücksicht darf er husten, Und allgemach vergißt man seiner. Nur allerhöchstens fragt mal einer: Was, lebt er noch? Ei, Schwerenot, Ich dachte längst, er wäre tot. Kurz, abgesehn vom Steuerzahlen, Läßt sich das Glück nicht schöner malen. Worauf denn auch der Satz beruht: Wer einsam ist, der hat es gut.

 

Früher Morgen am "Riverbend". Seit fünf Uhr sitze ich schon am Fenster, schaue auf den vernebelten Fluß und genieße meine erste Tasse Tee.

Aber jetzt ist die besinnliche Einsamkeit vorbei denn ich höre schon daß meine Frau aufgestanden ist. "Als ich einsam war, da hatte ich es gut!"

 

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P.S. Da kam die Antwort von einem (verheirateten) Leser: "Ja, das wäre schön!" Meine Antwort: "Die Einsicht kommt zu spät!" Die Rückantwort: "Ich könnte es ändern, aber ich habe nicht mehr die Kraft für die Auseinandersetzung". Für deine Zuschrift, schreib einfach "Dito".

 

In a sunburnt country

 

 

I don't know if you've reached that age yet when you wake up in the small hours of the morning, say between three and five o'clock, having just dreamt some disturbing dreams and, wanting nothing more than to forget them, turn on the radio to distract yourself.

This happens to me quite regularly but, after turning on the radio, I switch over to the already loaded CD to resume listening to the audiobook I had been listening to and falling asleep by hours earlier.

For the past several nights I have successfully banished all bad dreams by listening to Bill Bryson's audiobook "Down Under", although the version I found at Vinnies some weeks ago is the American edition "In a Sunburned Country", priced at US49.95 or $57.50 in Canadian "loonies".

It's read by Bill Bryson himself, which adds to the listening pleasure as he has a very pleasant reading voice, and the ten compact discs go on for twelve hours which takes care of quite a few unpleasant dreams.

 

The only online copy of "Down Under" is in "Walkabout", starting on page 241 - click here

 

Unfortunately, the only YouTube recording I could find of this audiobook covers little more than the first two pages of the printed book, so in order to forget your unpleasant dreams you may have to buy the full audiobook on ebay or, for an equivalent amount of money, queue up at Dan Murphy's with all the others who are trying to forget something.

 

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"Put on a pair of clean underpants!"

 

 

Funny how certain things stay with you all your life! As I'm getting dressed for our morning walk around the village, I remember my mother's constant admonition, "Trag 'ne saubere Unterhose!"

As if it mattered whether my underpants were freshly laundered or a week old after I'd been run over by a passing bus and someone was giving me mouth-to-mouth. Sucking on a peppermint sweet would've been so much better - for the one given me mouth-to-mouth, that is.

There were several parental instructions that never left me throughout my life. The most character- and life-shaping was "Erst die Arbeit, dann das Vergnügen!" which, for all I know, may have come straight from the mouth of that German "father of the Protestant work ethic", Max Weber.

I don't know whether I got through life because or despite my parents' instructions, but there were times when I wondered if it hadn't been better if I had lived my life backwards.

Imagine you start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people's home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, they give you a beautiful gold watch and a party on your first day.

You work for forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you're ready for high school (well, I skipped THAT part anyway). You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have absolutely no responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born.

And then you spend your last nine months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day, and then - Voila! - you finish off with an orgasm! Whoopee!

Padma is ready. Did she call out "Put on a pair of clean underpants!" ?

 

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