Die Deutsche Diaries -- Day One(aka: the inner workings of a frenzied mind)

Disclaimer: The following content is my mental chatter put into writing (some mindless, some founded on sound thought) and should be considered only as such. I set a goal to chronicle our trip simply in order to exercise my writing prowess a bit. I fear that it's alarmingly out of shape.

Saturday, February 5, 2010

Sean and I are embarking on a nine day trip to Germany. I am so excited! I've always wanted to visit Germany, not only because it's the land of a smattering of my forefathers (and foremothers, rest their souls) but because I have a strong proclivity for German history. And sauerbraten. And all words starting with "sch-," like "schnell" and "schon." I digress.


I'm proud of my lack of anxiety to travel, despite the fact that we're currently hurtling at 585 mph, 36,000 feet above solid ground. I'm not thrilled, however, about being continents apart from my offspring, but duly realize that it's important to part ways on occasion, if for no other reason than to ensure that they fully appreciate me for an entire 4 1/2 hours upon my return. I once heard and frequently quote to myself the following: "Our children outgrow us long before we outgrow them." It's a subtle reminder to my codependent side the importance of maintaining my own life while concurrently guiding them through theirs. And a reminder that I won't always have to clean little fingerprints off of large windows, as eventually their grubby paws will reside elsewhere. How sad.


Back to the flight. The sun is behind us and the clouds are illuminated an eerie electric violet. The terrain below has changed from the ostensibly endless jagged peaks and valleys of the Northern Rockies to the continual flat brown plains of the Canadian inlands north of Saskatoon and Edmonton. I sense the small distance between here and the literal "top of the world." The barren earth is engraved with countless rivers and lakes; I've never seen so many bodies of water so close in proximity. It's as if earth and water battle for dominance. As the plane moves rapidly eastward, the sun is becoming a vague molten flush on the horizon.

Air France gets a two-thumbs-up thus far. Mostly because of the "Your Flight" feature on the individual monitors nested in the seat backs. It's fascinating to watch what the landscape camera reveals. I do believe that God had a great time designing this world. It must have been the supreme creative outlet.


We're now over Greenland and I just used the restroom. I can now say that I have peed over Greenland. Hey, we all need our small claims to fame...


I just watched a period flick reminiscent of "Becoming Jane," entitled, "Bright Star," about the poet John Keats and his unfulfilled love story that ended tragically with his death at age 25. As a poet he only knew fame posthumously; he died believing himself to be a failure. Sometimes it seems those who are teetering on the brink of noteriety need only to pass on in order to achieve it. I'm thinking it's a better route for a poet anyway, or at least for his potential fan base. I'm not sure how society dotes on a living poet, but it surely can't be the same as fawning over cinema celebs or pop divas. I can't imagine flipping on the cell phone light or waving a lighter overhead while chanting emotionally, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." It just doesn't have the same effect.


A quick stint in Paris and we're headed to Hamburg.