Fifty Shades of Gray

“Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.” 

-Sinclair Lewis 

I was ready for the cold. I had a mental checklist that I'd gone through before I arrived in Germany. After an experience my senior year during the before-I-knew-what-winter-really-was-years of my life. It was in Chicago, I'd visited the U of C Law School to check out how it tickled my fancy. The school was fine, people nice enough and the reputation of the institution itself was appealing but there was something that I couldn't get past: it was freezing in March. The wind bit at my face, its incessant howling a mocking reminder to me, "Of course it's cold here Clifford, we're right by the water." Needless to say my experience at U of C helped me along the way to deciding on some other, warmer, sunnier alternative for my impending legal doom education . 

This detour to Germany has only reemphasized how wisely I went about picking a sunny location to spend the last few years of my life law school years . No, like I said above, I'd prepared perfectly for the winter; a well reinforced jacket, a positive mentality, accessories such as gloves, beanies and scarves, and a little bit of luck (that you aren't caught in the freezing, hail/snow combination, halfway to your destination on a bike with only a jacket in between you and the elements) is all you really need to survive. Until this point there'd been very little complaint about the cold weather. 

Sweet while it lasted.  

It's not the temperature necessarily, no, it's the unbelievable duration of winter. I have been in Münster since the first of October. According to a weather website, in that time span I have seen 13 days of sunshine. Thirteen. If you're superstitious, that means the unluckiest number in the world. I cannot remember the last sunny day I had. The weather site claims it was Febuary 11th but it was characterized as a "Mostly Cloud, Partly Sunny Day" nonetheless after a weekend at Karneval I'm sure sunshine was the last thing I wanted beaming down on me. So..let's skip the Partly Sunny days (one on January 23rd) and go to the next fully sunny day. January 12. 

That's right, one sunny day since the year 2013. You know, The University of Chicago undergraduate school has adopted the nickname, "The Place Fun Goes to Die" if I had to give Germany a nickname I think I'd stay along that grain...let's call it...hmm how about: 

November 2012; Hamburg, Germany

December 2012: Münster, Germany

January 2013 Duisberg, Germany

February 2013: Starnberg, Germany

"The Place the Sun Goes to Die."

On Friday I was ready to amend this blog post, because I was granted with around three hours of heavenly sunshine and it made my bike ride to work all the more enjoyable. By two o'clock on the same day it was snowing. My black gloves were white after having to wipe white powder off of my bike--the same bike I'd ridden to work with my life soundtrack playing somewhere in the background: I'm Walking on Sunshine. 

Tip-toeing more like it. 

The snow kept coming down, and it's now Sunday, shovels scraping the sidewalks and driveways. I am in my own personal horror story. It never ends. According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Alaska is #2 (23:100,000)in the United States, ordering the states by the population's suicide rate. The only state that's above the white tundra is Montana. I think that Montana owning the top spot for suicides per capita is fairly self explanatory (if I lose any readers today...they come from Montana). Is this because the lovely citizens of Russia's Neighbors see gray skies and white grounds all the time? Because it's perpetually dark and cold? Because the winters are too long and the other seasons too short? Sounds then, a lot like German winters. 

I feel like I'm writing the last passages of my diary in a deep, damp cell somewhere. The ever so slowly caving in walls across from me carved in with knife slashes, counting the days that winter has gone along. Struggling to make it through the cold, gray days and growing a beard to, to no avail, protect me from some of the wind. I feel like Jafar's alter ego, desperate, willing to kill (not even a fly...) for what I want--golden sunshine. 




The best solace I can have is that next Friday it's supposed to be sunny and 40 degrees. It's the only thing I look forward to now. In a world filled with snow, wind that tears your face apart, and clothes that simply cannot, no matter how well they're made, stop that breeze from crawling up and down your spine, I am terribly out of place.

Hey, Cupid...

Let me get this out there early: I'm a huge fan of Valentine's Day. I think it's a silly little holiday that allows people to do things that they should do normally for people they care about. Sure, it's over publicized, overloaded with ridiculous amount of wholesale chocolate and conveniently timed "romance" flicks that would never live up to likes of Westside Story, Casablanca and Gone With the Wind. Honestly, I just imagined Humphrey Bogart pulling his best Denzel impersonation, looking at Channing Tatum, and roaring starkly, "The Vow ain't got SHIT on me!"



But back to the point, Valentines Day is a wonderful, sappy, creative marketing scheme that has robbed each and every one of us who's ever bought in to the idea that there should be a day to celebrate pure emotion and feeling for someone else. Okay, the more I talk about it the stupider it gets. Eh, but this is not a critique of the wonderful american holiday Valentines Day, nor is it an evaluation of the Top 50 Romance Movies of All Time--even though I'm sure I'd be up to the task--this is about Germany's strangely siblingesque infatuation with the "american" celebration of holidays.

Now I can tell you, confidently, that our lovely Brüder & Schwestern over the pond are quite the romantics and any misconceptions of this manner should be eschewed. The funny thing is...I didn't feel out of America in the weeks leading up to Valentines Day. Chocolate stands with heart boxes; roses with balloons; red, red, red. This is all stuff I could have walked into Wal-Mart and seen. I expected something new, something original--okay, okay, counterarguments are always welcome: "Well Cliff, they do have Herzen and those are cute. How dare you say there's nothing German about their Valentines Day?" 

Well I say that, witty friend of mine, because 1) If anyone actually ever bought someone a heart like that for V-Day (abbreviations #winning) then they deserve to be shot. It's like the most cop out of cop out gifts. 2) It's not just Valentines Day. Halloween, Christmas...the holiday seasons here are so strikingly similar I sometimes feel like I'm in an episode of the Twilight Zone or maybe True Life: Germany Holidays are American/American Holidays are German.

This isn't a condemnation. It's just an observation. I got to wear a Santa Claus hat on for the weeks leading up to Christmas. Santa Claus. Yeah, yeah, Weihnachtsmann, Schweihnachtsmann. I know a Santa Claus when I see him. I got to carve a pumpkin for Halloween. That "Kotzende Kürbis" that Andreas and I made would have sat very nicely on my front steps of 103 Quarry Place. Christmas trees, trick or treating, dressing up, roses, chocolate. Holidays in Germany are GREAT! The only question is: why in the world are they so similar?

It's a chicken or the egg thing for a lot of them. I'm like 117% sure that we jacked Santa Claus from German's Weihnachtsmann. Christmas trees were in Germany before America had even been conceived. Before it was even a sparkle in Puritan expat's eyes. But you're not gonna actually argue that Germans came up with the disgustingly genius idea of marketing Valentines Day like it was Christmas. Or carving pumpkins, nahh those are better left for soups.

It's just a cool little thing to see. How cultures borrow from one another.

That girl in powerfully walking her way down the street with roses in her hand? Power to her. How about the one biking with a teddy bear stuffed in her backpack? That's true dedication. And it's not even something bad. Germany took a little piece of my heart on Valentines Day, making me realize that as corny and ridiculous as it seems, we came up with one hell of a way to market love.

Cupid, your work here is done.

The Mistress Theory

When someone, who you care about or are close to, does something bad to you there's usually an expectation that you will receive something. Be it an explanation, an apology, or even a headache, you at least want some things to be explained to you. I mean, they did something bad something egregious, something that can't, for the love of reason be explained without cursing to the high heavens and watching the tears roll down your face in the mirror while eating ice cream with chocolate liqueur on top and a glass of straight vodka--the $5.99 kind you find in those run down liquor stores on Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd-- to chase. Well I did one of those egregious things. And the person who deserves an explanation is you. It has been almost exactly a month since the last time I wrote something in this blog. That in itself deserves a condemning, but to put it in greater perspective, it has been almost exactly 20% of the time that I've been in Germany since I've wrote something.

That's right, it's past the six month mark. I'm still ecstatic to be here. I love Germany, the people, the culture, the language (even though I still want to rip my hair out when my brain has to constantly run through a proverbial checklist of things to do quicker than my mouth spits words out), the towns, the proximity to other beautiful European nations, just an overall solid place. But that also means I've been six months away from America. Let's not jump the gun here...I may well be on my way to becoming an expat, but in no way, shape or form am I there yet. The simple truth is, I love America too. I don't know if I've already written about the wife and mistress analogy but it's a fitting one for my life.

America is my wife. I love her, I need her, she has always been there for me; but she's far away and her ever lasting appeal has worn off the longer I spend away from here.

Germany is my mistress. She's fresh, new, exciting, always longing for my attention and welcome to try new things. But like any mistress (like any 22 year old I'm an expert in all things marriage and mistresses.) there are things that she cannot help me to forget.

And now, after 50% of my time here is up, I want to do a type of mid-year preparation for the post-test I'll be taking, it won't be as comprehensive or multifaceted but it'll be a nice little study guide.

So here we go.

The Thing I Miss Most About America

My Car. A 2005 Toyota Camry XLE.

The so called "Silver Bullet," I can't explain exactly what about it I miss so much. The feel? No. The smell? No. The touch of the wheel as my fingers wrap gently around it? Now we're getting on to something. The sound of the engine gently purring as a tap the accelerator with my big toe? Ooooh. How about the freedom of going wherever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want? Bingo. 

If I had any influence, the sales of
Sweetwater would increase exponentially overnight.

Above all that's what I miss. We're a free-spirited country, America. We don't think about what we can't do, what we shouldn't do, or why we shouldn't do it as much as other countries. I think even if I had access to a car here I would probably not have the same carefree, grab-my-keys-hop-in-the-car-and-drive attitude here. But seriously, I miss how easy it was for me to hop in the car, head to the grocery store and grab a six pack of beer. Not that bad stuff, the stuff I've been trying convince Germans exists in the States...you know, good beer. Sweet Water, Shock Top, Dogfish, yes German beer is good, but the everyday German beer has nothing on a good Sweet Water 420 Pale Ale.

Alas, I digress. I miss my car. Maybe it's in relation to gas prices? Or maybe I simply cannot fathom driving anything other than the Silver Bullet, but there's a huge void in my heart--and don't doubt me it's huge, otherwise it wouldn't be the first thing in this blog post--that cannot be filled in Germany.



Or maybe I'm just terrified to drive on the Autobahn...

The Thing I Will Miss Most About Germany

Münster/myhostfamily/myfriends/potatoes/freshvegetables/snow/readinggermanbooks/pickingfunatrandompeopleonthestreetsforwearingridiculousoutfits/beer/funnyaccents/stupidquestions*/sparklingwater/sexycars/beautifulpeoplewhoareinshape/theabsenceoffastfoodoneverycorner/spiralstaircases/bikelanes/doeners/frankfurt/cologne/münster/munich/hamburg/berlin**/germanmusic/diebundesrepublikdeutschland.

Preeeetty sure that's the one thing I'll miss the most about Germany. It was really hard to decide on just one thing but I nailed it on the head. If you asked me exactly why I would miss...this one thing, I would tell you the answer is simple really. The Mistress Theory.

Oh don't you DARE go away, I've still got a whole 'nother thought to expound upon. This is the consequence of missing a month of blogging. Perhaps you should remind me next time to split my thoughts.

The Mistress Theory (As seen on Cliffipedia)

The Mistress Theory, created in 2013 by world renowned Blogger Extraordinaire Clifford D. Mpare, Jr states that anything second similar concept (e.g. land, person, sport, food) that an individual has positive exposure to will automatically magnify the undesirable aspects of a primary, already well-known concept (e.g. land, person, sport, food). Yet the secondary concept cannot resolve discrepancies between itself and the primary concept leaving it vulnerable to becoming an ancillary.

The concept was created by world renowned Blogger Extraordinaire Clifford D. Mpare, Jr. as he sat in his bed in Münster, Germany during his one year excursion. In particular, Mpare was gauging the merits of his country of origin against the merits of his current location. He noticed a major discrepancy in the things he deemed enjoyable about about the aforementioned country and wanted to examine the phenomenon on a deeper, subsupermetaconscious***  level. It has since then been evaluated and considered for the Nobel Prize.

Unfortunately, Mpare was unable to stake his claim for the concept because he was too busy driving his 2005 Toyota Camry XLE.

FINALLY found a reason to slip some Sotfcore into my Blog! 

*These will certainly be encountered on every face of the earth. I myself ask them at least once a day to keep people guessing.

**I have yet to be to this city. It is just an assumption made by word of mouth.

***This word was created by world renowned Blogger Extraordinaire Clifford D. Mpare, Jr. in 2013 shortly after his Mistress Theory was created.