After posting this comment in BlueOregon's latest diary, I
foolishly went and actually read the wikipedia entry I linked to, as well
as the German entry on the same headwort. Now I'm stuck with an Ohrwurm, an
old Schlager from the GDR. Help!
It’s what might have happened to popular music if Chuck Berry
and his buddies had never invented rock and roll. And, finally, the best
description I can give: if Barry Manilow and Paul Anka sang in German, they
would sing Schlager.
Went to the laundry parlour this morning to see a note posted on the
washing powder dispensing whatchamacallit that said the thing had been vandalised and that
customers please bring their own powder until it was replaced. On to the
other parlour across town -- which was closed for repair. Back home. 7 a.m.,
riding a bike that's kept afloat by rust and dirt and my nostalgia for the
good times we had. One hour to go till shops open, no washing powder, no
coffee either, my life in shambles, nobody loves me, boohoohoo.
About half-way between Frankfurt and Cologne, on the Rhine, there is the
city of Koblenz. Castellum apud
Confluentes, the place where the rivers Rhine and Mosel meet. In 1812,
Coblence was a garrison town on the eastern border of Napoleon's empire.
Near the triangular wedge of land between the rivers, a short walk up the
Mosel side, you'll find yourself on the square in front of St. Castor
basilica. On the square there is a fountain, erected in 1812, that
looks like a monument's pedestal whose statue has gone missing. It has two
inscriptions in French. In the original one from 1812, the French commander
of the city honours the victorious march of the glorious Grande Armée into
Russia. The second inscription was added by his successor St. Priest in 1814: "Seen and approved by us,
Russian commander of the city of Koblenz".
This story is not connected in any way to the content of this diary.
Inside: Pynchon, Pelevin, König,
Yesterday morning I was about to start a diary remarking how it oddly felt like the first spring day of the year, even though it was noticeably colder than the weeks before. It's a good thing I know better than to trust my premonitions.
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