Well, in the absence of anything else of substance to report, I will just be offering you some of my observations today.

Let me tell you that I have been watching an extraordinary amount of TV these last few weeks. Pretty much needless to say that, maybe with the exception of House MD, most of it is rubbish. Hmm, actually most of it is Sports. Baseball, Football, Nascar and Ice Hockey. On occasion even Basketball, but I don't like it.

Anyway, when you are watching a lot of American Sports coverage, you are watching hundreds and hundreds of commercials.

Which brings me to my first observation: Judging from the target audience of these commercials, most Americans who supposedly watch sports (or any TV for that matter) are in a bad way and also scared shitless.

Let me explain:

This is a guess but in the European countries I have lived in, the average person who watches popular sports seems to be male, drinks beer and other alcoholic beverages, drives a car, has some type of games console and likes to do a bit of DIY or Home Improvement.

In America, the target audience (the people who watch all the sports) seem to own or rent cars (with some insufficient car insurance plan) while at the same time being incredibly in debt and worried about retirement, in need of legal advice of all sorts, require life insurance and some sort of elaborate home protection system as well as suffering from hair loss, high cholesterol, prostate problems and, of course, erectile dysfunction.

Like I said, very scared about now and the future and not exactly healthy. I find that amazing to say the least.

I will also say that if you need being told to see a doctor if your erection lasts more than 4 hours, you should not be out unsupervised. Enough said.

Right, I got the hotel car the other day and went to the Supermarket. No big deal you say. Right. But it brings me to my next observation.

Have you ever observed how people behave when they wait to pay and then actually pay in a supermarket? Maybe its just me, but isn't it amazing how different men and women are when it comes to paying? Perhaps I'm generalizing and discriminating, but whatever.

Here is how women do it:

After having their 2 gazillion items scanned, the cashier announces the amount to be paid. This without fail always comes as somewhat of a surprise to women. I'm not smart enough to tell you why.

Anyway, so once they realize they actually won't get the stuff without handing over some sort of payment, the search for the wallet/purse starts in the handbag. Depending on the individual and the size of the handbag this can take some considerable amount of time and even produce cries of joy once the purse is actually located.

Some especially dedicated ladies then use this very moment to reorganize all the receipts accumulated over the last 6 months.

Eventually some money will exchange hands. If not paying by card, the women will invariably hand over the note requiring the most amount of change which then will of course require putting away more notes and coins in different sections of the wallet/purse/handbag.

By this time, the young guy who bags the groceries is making plans for retirement. Just when you think it might eventually be your turn, she is back to collect the receipt!

There is all sorts of variations to this. My favorites involve mobile phones and hyper-active children. In all fairness, it is never boring to watch.

Men will use all the time the women ahead of them take to calculate the approximate amount of their shopping and check their available change. Then hand over an amount requiring either no or only very little change. They will then use one of their hands to pocket the change while taking the receipt with the other hand. While they do this they already start moving away. Amazing ey?

I always try to make a point to show off our somewhat superior skills, but nobody pays attention and also it would be quite boring, albeit vastly more efficient, if everybody would be doing it the "male" way.

Okay, I do have some more observations about Drive-Ins, babies in accounting offices and some other stuff, but you'll have to excuse me now. There is beer to drink and I have some packing to do. Will be traveling again soon!

Take care and Greetings from Aruba

My original plan for this entry was to make you green with envy. It's really about time anyway...

But instead of telling you about the glorious weather and beach here, about living in a nice hotel room where other people take care of your laundry, where you are not able to cook for yourself (not that I'd want to) and have to order Room Service or about sitting at the pool doing f#%k all other than drinking strawberry daiquiris etc., I have come across something else you need to know about. And when I say need to know about, for some of you I really mean it. You can't afford not to know!

But let's back up one step. As some of you might remember from my previous entry, I am currently in Aruba on a secret mission. And while Room Service might be fun once in a while, trust me, you don't want it every night. There is also only so much diversion a hotel room or even an entire hotel can offer, so you will have to venture out once in a while. Especially if it is Stanley Cup Playoff season (that means Ice Hockey for those of you who might not follow US Sports as closely as you should) and the games are not shown on the channels available in your room and you have been to the Champions Sport Bar in your hotel 4 times in the week already.

There are plenty of dinner opportunities here in the direct vicinity of the hotel including a Tony Romas, a TGI Fridays, Benihana among many many others. Quite a few of them will show sports events. But the one place that caught my eye is located directly above the Benihana here.

It is a Hooters!!! I see the question mark in some of your faces. Well, Hooters is a restaurant chain that uses a certain concept to appeal to a certain type of customer. I am very excited! More explanations later. Believe it or not, I had never been to one before. That's not particularly surprising as in Europe they are relatively rare. There's only 2 in Germany, 3 in Austria & Switzerland and only one in the UK. I was very close to getting into one once about 10 years ago on a USA holiday, but the girlfriend at the time did not deem it a suitable dining option, what with all the sports on TV and the lovely waitresses and their very own asset structure...

Which brings us back to the concept. Nocturnal birds like owls are referred to as Hooters, presumably because of the noise they make. The company actually uses an owl in their logo.  However, certain female body parts are sometimes also referred to as Hooters and I believe this is more what the founders had in mind 25 years ago.

So, you end up with a restaurant that serves about the usual American fare (i.e. onion rings, ribs, shrimps, burgers etc.) served by pretty waitresses with big smiles in a very distinctive outfit in a place showing all sorts of sports on many many TVs. It also has a certain knack for taking the mick out of themselves, which is something I like very much in everything. As I said, it appeals to a certain type of customer. As you might have guessed by this point, I am one of them. No seriously, if you haven't been, you must go at once! Take my car!

So while I could try to tell you that I went in there last Friday for a Caesar Salad, the New York Rangers game and a drink, I don't think I would be very successful. It is partly true though. They also had Happy Hour. So, I sit there with my 2 drinks watching the game with one eye and soaking up the atmosphere and all the information with the other. You see, we hospitality folks have a bad habit of always looking for flaws or figuring out how something works.

Well, while I obviously don't know for sure, I would think the Aruba Hooters is a franchise run by what I would guess are a Filipino family, which comes maybe a bit unexpected. The kitchen is quick and puts out decent food. The whole place including the Used Beer Department (love it!) is clean and well maintained. Some of the girls are truly lovely and by luck I have chosen the section served by the prettiest one of them.  Her name is Natasha and with her wonderful smile she keeps me supplied with drinks for about the next 3 hours. During the game I proceed to befriend 2 American guys at the next table, one of which works at the local refinery. I have pretty much forgotten everything else they have told me. After the game is over I hand over a ludicrously large amount of money to the lovely Natasha and move on. Because I have lost the receipt, I can't tell you how many drinks I had exactly. I could also not remember any particularly funny behavior on my part, but supposedly I guess there must have been a lot of drinks as well as some memorable behavior on my part.

I went back there on Monday for the Boston Bruins game (really) and was immediately recognized and greeted with a big smile, which kind of tells me what sort of evening it must have been. Whatever, as long as I'm greeted like this and as long as the lovely Natasha is around I'll be more than happy to go back.

Today there is no Ice Hockey, so I'm not going, but nevertheless, you'll have to excuse me now. Room Service has just arrived and I really was out to make you full of envy after all....

Life's good, take care...

Well well well. Actually I wanted to tell you more about my holiday back home and in London.

I wanted to tell you in detail about my friend Tefo and me going to see Bayern München play Leverkusen and win in the Allianz Arena and also some facts about this amazing place.

I wanted to tell you about my reunion ten years after I finished my apprenticeship at the Platzl hotel;

I wanted to tell you about the new OBI (a German DIY chain) in Erding and about all the cool stuff you can can get there...

I wanted to tell you about my friends Julia and Wuschi and their babies and Wuschi's extraordinary attitude towards the little lady (and also how she already farts like a pro)...  

I wanted to tell you about the journey to and from London, the new restaurant at the Grosvenor House Hotel and how it must be bleeding money left right and center. How the hotel had the biggest chocolate Easter egg in town (made by their German pastry chef). How I was asked many many times by many many people when I would come back (and how that warmed my heart). About meeting many dear friends and celebrating my friend Steve's surprise birthday party and about how people like to hear my stories (even over and over again).

I wanted to tell you about my ankle and how the German Health system and Capitalism really work. And about Family lunches, Schnitzels, the journey back, being back in Curacao, having Brazilian soccer legend Romario at the hotel and god knows what else....

Alas, it is not to be... Things are happening too fast in my life and I need to try and stay on top of things...

And so, to different matters.....

Due to reasons I cannot really discuss in a forum like this, I was on the road again last week. With that I mean, that only 10 days after arriving back in Curacao I have left the country again.

The first part of the adventure was (as usual with me) the actual traveling itself. This was due mostly to the type of aircraft. For those of you who are taking notes, it was a Shorts SD3-60 and, apart from the flying contraption that took us sky-diving last year, it was the smallest plane I have ever been in.

I am happy to report though that it is perfectly capable of making small trips like the one I have just made.

And so it is that I find myself in Aruba, the westerly neighbor island to Curacao and the A of the ABC islands.

They have put me up in a nice, newly-renovated room at the Aruba Marriott Resort & Stellaris Casino (www.marriott.com/auaar) so who am I to complain? In fact, I am enjoying all the amenities the place has to offer, including the gym and the pool (bit of a sunburn actually) and I’m happy to report that the notorious ankle, which has featured in this space a couple of times over the last half year, seems to be holding up! Depending on how long I will be here (and that is the Million Dollar question at this point), I might be running a 8-minute mile again soon. With all this beach and pool and stuff, the beer belly has to go anyway.

I have decided that I really like this hotel. I have inspected most other hotels on the strip here in Aruba, with the notable exception of the Riu Palace, which takes their All-Inclusive-Guest-Only-Policy really seriously and did not let me in (cheeky buggers!). I think I am confident to report that the Marriott, somewhat unusually in my experience if I may say, is actually the nicest place to stay on the island (at least of the high rise hotels). You see, unless you include Ritz-Carltons and JW Marriott hotels, Marriotts are usually the most profitable hotels but not necessarily the nicest to look at or the most innovative.

The Hyatt here is putting up some considerable competition but due to the fact that they, just like all other hotels here with the exception of the Marriott, have incarcerated a number of parrots for people to look at and take pictures, does not get my final vote. Why in god’s name do hotels do that? Who wants a picture of a big colorful bird in a CAGE? I guess they take them out once in a while, but anyway.

Honorable mention also goes to the Westin hotel, which I liked as well, even though I can’t put my finger on why exactly.

But really, if coming to Aruba, stay at the Marriott! But enough Marriott advertising and back to the island itself.

The island is a bit smaller than Curacao and I would say it’s also drier. From what I have seen, in general it is very different to Curacao. Everything caters to the American market and there are far less Europeans. Strangely enough, I think that makes it somewhat more attractive.

There seems to be more to do and when it comes to entertainment and dining options, Aruba blows Curacao out of the water.

At this point I would like to thank Ester and Joris who were my exploring and dining companions last week and without who I would most likely have been pretty bored (though a bit fitter perhaps and definitely less hung over on Friday).

Really people, if you like steak, come here, you will not be disappointed. There is a couple of excellent places. Just bring enough money.

And if you're a Marriott associate like me and you go to the Steakhouse at the Renaissance Hotel to have a good dinner thinking you can get your associate discount, think again. They don't give it to you, the misers, using some lame Franchise excuse!

But I do bet they did not count on someone like me coming along telling everybody what tight geezers they really are. Ha! They do cook one mean steak though...

Notably, there is also Dunkin Donuts here, which is something that does not exist on Curacao. Trust me, this is of vital importance to Curacalaneans, especially the ladies in my office... Thank you for reminding me every day!

In general I would not go as far as saying the people here are friendlier or happier than in Curacao, but they all seem to be genuinely nice and happy. They are so happy in fact (or at least pretend to be) that they put that on their cars' number plates. One Happy Island.

On second thoughts they can't all be that happy really. The last few days quite a few people have been on strike here. Customs, Immigration even the Fire Department!

Be that as it may, I know what I would put instead: The island where nobody seems to know what time it is. No really, I have rarely been so popular due to the fact that one my (previously lesser thought of) skills is telling the time. Amazing! Whether it's tourists or locals, I get asked all the time.

I guess it goes to show that everybody here is a bit more relaxed... and I'm afraid that is exactly what I will do now. Relax.

So, that's it for today. With all the stuff that is going on though, there should be more soon, I promise.

Until next time, take care

Wolfi

Finally there is a new blog entry! Would you believe it? And finally I have something to write about again.

I figured that you guys might not be very interested in the budgeting and forecasting troubles that have plagued me in the time since the last entry and I did not really have the time to sit down anyway.

Now however, there is something to report and while I still don't have the time, here we go anyway.

On March 14, after almost exactly half a year away from Europe I was on my way home again to good old Germany to see family, friends, colleagues, doctors, a football game and any notable new arrivals. Apart from that there was the prospect of good food (and hopefully lots of it), drink and well deserved sleep in my own bed.

It all starts with a KLM flight from Curacao Airport to Amsterdam. This is a scheduled daily flight (9 hours) and theoretically not a just some sort of holiday shuttle. Reality looks very different. The plane is packed with tanned and sunburned Dutch people returning home after a lots of sun and booze. There is dozens of children and I guess about 10 to 15 babies.

Holidaying is clearly no easy task for a family and looking after a lot of these little critters is not easy I guess. In any case, there are the first tantrums, tears and parents losing it already on the ground. Oh joy! And I have almost 10 hours of quality time ahead of me with all of them in a flying steel tube...

Most of you know that I am not very good around children (especially little ones) at the best of times. I am also fairly sensitive to noise and in general have trouble sleeping on planes so this would be a real test.

As it turns out (not at all unexpected really), there would be almost no quiet time on the plane without one of the little bundles sharing their extended lung capacity and voice capability testing with the rest of us. You would think all this screaming takes up a lot of energy and that they would get tired after a while, but alas no. And if really, there is always some tag team partner to take over for a while.

How I wish I could kick out one of these emergency exits and throw the lot of them out. It worked very well in Indiana Jones for those of you who remember. Would be a bit windy in the cabin for a while, but still...

No really, give me snoring or even vomiting people anytime, even the dreaded talkers, I trade them all against the babies.

Whatever, eventually we make it to Amsterdam and apparently land somewhere near Holland, Amsterdam or the actual airport because after "only" about half an hour of taxiing we make it to our gate. Don't get me wrong, I actually have to admit that I do like Schiphol. It's clean and very well organized. With my five hours there I also had a chance to re-acquaint myself with European prices. I mean, EUR 6.99 for a Quarter Pounder Menu, come on!

Well, I managed to refrain from starting to drink at 8:30 am and finally caught my flight to Munich.

When I got off the flight in Munich I was delighted to see that some considerate soul had installed a TV at the baggage reclaim which was showing the Bundesliga Live Konferenz. I was not all all delighted to see Cottbus 2, Bayern München 0 but there you go.

Luggage took very long but in the end I got it and my dad was outside (3 degrees, brrrrrrrr) waiting.

Half an hour later I was home at the dining room table having Leberkäs with an Urweisse, the new product of Erdinger Weissbräu (http://www.erdinger-urweisse.de/), after that Sportschau on the couch. Aaaaah, bliss.

Then one of my brothers asks me to drive him to work, which is something I would normally only reluctantly leave the couch for. However, I'm up quickly for this one.

You see, both of my brothers have recently acquired new cars. Or should I maybe say rockets? They both now drive the BMW Z4 3.0si.  Just look at it... trust me it sounds sexy as well...

I would admit that is probably not the most fuel-efficient car you can find and that you have to be fairly bendy to get in and out. I actually recommend that you always carry a shoehorn in case you get stuck, but otherwise...

Yes baby, 265 brake horse power which will accelerate you from 0 - 100km/h in 5.7 seconds.

Being used now to automatic cars and driving 100km/h on the ring in Curacao being the high point of my week, I certainly lack the skill to do that. The weather was not too friendly towards any kind of speed testing either, so I only drop off my brother and then drive back home making only a minor detour to see what the baby can do. Phew....

After having folded my ears back in the normal position I later go out with some old friends from school. This is what I probably enjoy the most about coming home: The fact that my arrival brings together people that normally don't see each other and that I don't have to worry for one second what I might do on a particular day.

The good old Weinwirt (http://www.weinwirt-erding.de/) we go to is one of my former employers and also where one of my brothers works now.

It also brings me a new experience: Going out smoke free in Germany! Smoke-free that is until you enter the office of the boss, where I went to say a quick hello. Good Lord! I forgot my breathing gear, so I have to make it quick and retreat before the white fog engulfs me completely and suffocation is only moments away...

And so end the first 24 hours of my holiday... There is more to come... I hope I'll find the time...

Take care

Wolfi

Since seeing Top Gun and The Final Countdown, I always wanted to get on board a US Navy Aircraft Carrier. While I haven't managed to do that yet, I have done something equally cool, if not cooler.

I had a guided tour on one of the world's most prestigious cruise ships - the Queen Mary 2! 160.000 tons of ocean-going luxury!

Consider this set of circumstances:

I am now working in Curacao, not exactly around the corner from most places.

I have a good friend who is the F&B Manager on the Queen Mary 2.

The Queen Mary comes to Curacao on Boxing Day 2007.

We manage to meet up on board!

And this is how it went: After some emailing back and forth with my friend Oliver and getting some security issues out of the way, at about 8am on Boxing Day 2007 2 friends and myself board one of the most famous cruise ships around for a tour of the ship, some breakfast and some drinks.

What can I say? Amazing! Extraordinary! Outstanding! Fantastic! If you ever get a chance to do this, by all means do it. You will not regret it.

The ship is built for Atlantic Crossings and the rough weather that might come with that, but inside you would never know it.

The place has got about everything. Restaurants, Bars, Night Clubs, Ballrooms, a theatre, a cinema, a Planetarium, a Casino, a world-class spa, tons of shops, an art gallery, a library, pools, basketball courts and god knows what else.

Ah yes, about 1500 cabins for up to 3056 passengers and about 1256 crew. And all the stuff that goes with it to move such a massive piece of equipment around(i.e. engines producing 157.000 horsepower) and at the same time support a life of luxury for the people who can afford to go on such a cruise. That means massive kitchens producing around 12.000 meals a day, gigantic laundries, a desalination plant, giant storerooms to store about 160 pallets full of food and drink, an incinerator and much much more.

Under the competent guidance of my friend we had a look at most of these areas, then went for the best breakfast I can remember in a long time to keep us going for some more exploring.

On that day the ship was the highest and largest building in Curacao and offered some of the best views.

As pictures probably say more than words, I'll let you see some more.

Let's start with some restaurants and bars...

Or how about some spotless, shiny kitchens?

The store rooms were especially impressive to me. Beer anyone? Meat? Some wine maybe? Fish?

But it's too cold in here. Let's go outside!

Well, enough for now. You get the idea. You really need to go and experience it yourself. If you don't have the cash to book a cruise (www.cunard.com), you can always go and work on a cruise ship. It's just 6 months or so at a time with 14 hour days without a day off. Easy.

Oliver obviously manages it well. In case you're wondering, he is doing fine, looking well, and will be moving to Australia (of all places) in a couple of weeks.

He also seems to like standing on the left in pictures.

Oli, thanks a million for making this happen! I know we cost you a great deal of time. Please also pass our thanks onto the Provision Master whose name I managed to forget already (Bofatt?).

It was great to see you and I hope we can repeat this at some point in the future. Maybe around the pool in the sun somewhere with an Erdinger in front of us discussing the successes of Bayern München.

Safe travels at all times.

While it is raining noticeably more the last few weeks, the rain showers are mostly short and the temperatures are still around 30 degrees.

With the weather being just a tad different than to what most of you might be used to for this time of year, you might think it's a bit hard to get a Christmas feeling. While this might be true for me personally (it's always like that I'm afraid), make no mistake, Christmas and New Years is serious business here.

Almost every house is decorated and everybody has a Christmas tree. And I mean a proper Christmas tree, not a Christmas palm.

Now hang on a minute you might think. You probably don't remember the traditional sort of trees as a particular landscape feature from your last Caribbean holiday. Well, they're not. Christmas trees here are shipped in in containers from Canada!

I haven't really been shopping, but I think the approach is a bit more relaxed here, but then I am used to the Oxford Street frenzy where there are more people to be found on 200 meters than on this whole island. You can't escape the Christmas music however, even though it's a nice change to the English Wham-based attacks on your ears.

There is Christmas parties as well of course.

My departmental Christmas party was an even more subdued affair than back in England, which came as a bit of a surprise. Normally my new crowd is a bit more jumpy than the Grosvenor House Finance team where I just had 2 or 3 people to fall back on when it came to after dinner entertainment. Here, there was no after dinner entertainment!! This is a first I believe. This was made up for the next day at the Managers Christmas Party with subsequent partying on the beach.

In contrast to England Christmas parties here seem to be less of an opportunity to get completely lashed and to misbehave. Well, nobody told me, so all the misbehaving was up to me and you'll be proud to hear that I promptly stepped up to the plate... Good that I was working a late shift the next day... I won't say anything else.

Here are some of the more civilized pictures of the 2 events.

That leaves one more Christmas subject: the Food.

People stare at you in disbelief when you announce that the traditional Christmas fare back home is goose or maybe duck. Here it is turkey, again.

I never understood that. Why, with turkey just having been the main attraction for Thanksgiving do you you rely on the same again for Christmas?

Anyway, turkey is far too boring to talk about, so let's talk about the other Christmas delicacy here: Pigs Ears.

That's right. Pigs Ears marinated in vinegar, then fried and served with onions. Crunchy. People love it! I did try it, but I doubt I will become a committed fan.

Okay, so much for Christmas. We survived another year and are now waiting for New Years. This is a big thing here too!

And there is something these people here do seem to love more than Pigs Ears: Fireworks!

Now to say that Curacaleneans like fireworks is like saying fish appreciate water. Good Lord!

In the not so distant past my friends and I have spent many a New Years buying fireworks and spending hours and days trying to blow each other up, so I think that I speak with some authority here. But we were merely the most ridiculous amateurs compared to what people here put on. There is more or less constant banging even while write this in the afternoon!

Companies compete on who can make the longest and loudest firecracker strings. And when I say strings, I mean long long strings, as measured in hundreds of meters!!!!

There is fireworks displays every day now. I watched a 20 minute one yesterday!

And when I say fireworks displays I mean something comparable to what they do at the Olympics closing ceremony or similar. Absolutely Amazing!!! You could probably build a bridge to Holland for all the money being spent. I'm looking forward to the big ones on New Years Eve.

With that I will leave you now. It's sort of the last chance for me to go to the beach before all the crazy Year End/Budgeting frenzy starts and Happy Hour is about to start.

So, to all of you a healthy, prosperous and adventurous 2008! I hope I will see many of you in the new year. Bottoms Up!

Apologies again for not writing more often, but time really flies when you're having fun, or have a lot of work or are traveling or all of the just mentioned as seems to be the case for me.

I have been snowed under with work and have been away from the island for a couple of days (for those of you who are keeping notes, I've been to Puerto Rico on a work related trip, so unfortunately nothing special to report). I'm also pretty sure that I had some fun somewhere in between, but here is the thing, I can't particularly remember. This has become a big deal for me lately. Remembering stuff. I seem to have stopped remembering stuff.

I used to be very good at it, indeed I was (maybe I even still am) well known for it. The good old Platzl hotel where I did my training did not have the keycards that every hotel seems to have now, but real keys with number tags. I was famous for recognizing guests and their room number so I could give them their key even before they asked for it.

I also used to be very good at remembering birthdays, car license plates and names. The birthdays I still try to keep up even though I have to make use of little gagdets for it. Any license plate other than my own (and I find even that taxing these days) has been erased from memory.

Names (and people) then is the really worrying bit. I increasingly meet people that I could swear I have never before seen in my life. These people however are very familiar with me and who might even have been through some rather hair-raising situations (hair-raising for them that is) with me. I obviously try to pretend remembering all these particular incidents and fake recognition, but afterwards I have conversations with people that remember us both that go something like this:

Me: Now who the hell was that?

Common friend (CF): Well, that was Miss XY of course

Me: Who is Miss XY?

CF: She was in the year below us in College in Switzerland and you were really trying to chat her up at the Summer Barbecue on Riederalp.

Me: I've never been to a barbecue at Riederalp.

CF: Yes, you've been. You were part of the organizing team.

Me: I was what? When the heck was that? What happened?

CF: Well, everybody got pretty drunk, you disappeared for a while with Miss XY, almost missed the last gondola back down to the valley and in the end she took over your room when you left Switzerland.

Me: I had a room?

I have had conversations like this with my ex-girlfriend that went on for days and I still have been none the wiser at the end.

I guess it's just a sign of age and I have to say there is three good things I can say about age:

I can sleep sitting up now, I can read the same book or watch the same TV program over and over again with no clue as towards the outcome and I can't actually remember the third thing.

At least it adds entertainment value for everybody else. Increasingly I have telephone conversations with the girls in my office that go like this:

Me: S, I'm in Purchasing, why am I here?

S: You've gone to get some Purchase Orders.

Me: Thank you.

Similarly I have wandered from my bedroom to the kitchen (which is not all that far) to find that upon arrival I had no clue what I wanted in the kitchen.

You would think that this problem gets better the older you get as there is less of a mind to grow absent, but it doesn't seem to work that way.

My neighbor, the ever loyal Miss M from P has put me on some Gingko tablets now to sort of provide doping to the gray matter upstairs. We'll see if it works, or, more interestingly, if I remember to take the tablets on time.

Speaking of time: Time is actually another interesting one: Should the police ever show up and ask: Where were you in the hours between 4pm and 11pm on December 21? I will just hold out my hands for them to cuff me and take me away as there is no chance of me remembering.

It's been like this for as long as I can remember, which, of course, is not very long.

In any case, before rambling on forever, I better quit. I believe the point I was trying to make was that forgetfulness is not necessarily a bad thing, but to tell you the truth, I don't remember now.

First of all let me assure you that this is going to be a bit more upbeat than last week. Just a little crisis there, nothing to worry about... But thank you all nonetheless for all the messages of support and Facebook hugs and whatever else. I was surprised that so many of you actually still read this.

This week I actually wanted to write about Thanksgiving as I do also have quite a lot to be thankful for, but there has been something else on my mind for a while so I will report on that first. And I am very thankful for what I'm about to write too, so there you go. But enough introduction, here we go.

I think it goes without saying that I probably must have the worst possible German accent ever when trying to speak English (or any other language for that matter) and I would expect more people to approach me to do voiceovers for Audi (yes, I can say Vorsprung durch Technik the way god meant it to be said) or play some Nazi Hauptmann in their play or commercial (all things considered, I'm too small probably and don't have enough facial hair).

Alas, no. I have only been here since July, but it seems that I have already built a certain reputation about my English writing skills. Apparently I'm the man to see if you need an email or a letter written in English to anyone, especially if you are trying to convey to the recipient that you are not exactly happy with something.

Even wilder, recently I got asked if I could help write somebody's Business Plan to convince the bank to hand over the money to realize someone's lifelong dream project. I don't know if it gets any more serious than this.

So, these days I'm writing cover letters, look over CVs, correspond with solicitors, various banks and landlords and, my personal favorite, write the text for somebody's CD booklet. How cool is that?

All this has come as a surprise to me. Back in my old job I was notorious for writing emails that did not exactly enhance teamwork, or at least so I was repeatedly told. Thus, I would never have guessed that people would want me to put their correspondence to paper. But, make no mistake, so it is.

Just the other day somebody said to me something like: Thanks man, you write one mean letter.

These are probably not exactly the words that were used, but that was the gist of it and this is what got me thinking.

Why? Well, because this is exactly how I think about the letters that my dad writes.

Whenever I read a letter my dad writes to some unfortunate creature, I usually think: Whoa, I'm amazed the paper doesn't curl up by itself.....

Finally I have found something that I'm considered good at. Something just like I think my dad is good at doing.

Now, I can see you think: What the hell does he mean and where the heck is this going? Let me explain:

I will have to speculate but I think most boys will go through some of the following phases at some point during their lives:

- Your dad is sooooo cool and strong and funny etc. (I think this phase is generally reserved for age 2 - 4)

- Your dad has no idea what is cool whatsoever and can't possibly ever been young himself (age 5 - 25) ....

If you're lucky like me, there is an additional phase:

- Your dad might not be cool exactly but at least he is coughing up the money for a decent education, so that's okay, isn't it?

Depending on the outcome of these phases and also depending on your general relationship with your parents either one of 2 things will then probably happen in some sort of variation:

- You try to be as different as humanly possible from your dad in what you choose to do for a living, the way you lead your life, who you vote for etc. or

- You try to beat your dad at his own game and get a better job, make more money etc.

It goes without saying that this will have rather varying degrees of success.

In my own case I have been at option 2 for maybe the last 8 or 9 years until I realized 2 or 3 years ago that while I would like to achieve what my dad has achieved I probably have no prayer in ever doing so.

To start with, he holds a PhD, so unless I wanna go back to school for a good while, that's out.

Also, he's not only holding down his normal job on a day to day basis, he is also the author of such important books like "Your Companion to English Literary Texts, Analysis and Interpretation of Narrative Prose" or the editor of "Mittelhochdeutsche Kurzgrammatik". For all I know these titles might even mean something.

He is also a skilled entertainer and gambler and I think is rather popular with most people.

In addition, he owns a massive house, brought up 3 boys that must have cost him more than just a few hairs, even though this has to this day not stopped him financing their little (mostly not so successful, but still rather pricey) adventures.

See what I mean? How the hell would I ever be able to do that? The clock is ticking you know.

However, apart from the already cited English writing skills, I seem to discover more and more stuff that seem to make me become more and more like my dad.

Just like him I'm just a tad impatient, prone to napping in inappropriate places and women (in my case my boss and my neighbor) seem to prefer talking to me when they are in a different room (a trick that my mother has successfully used over the last 30 years to drive my dad bonkers).

Now the thing that did it for me was that I have started teaching last week. I'm not certain yet, but I think I like it. I have not really had the urge to expel one of my students by means of a window yet, but I can easily see how you get to the point and could not blame my dad any more if he would throw them out in boatloads.

So, before I go rambling on forever, I guess I am happy to report that I'm becoming my dad and that I'm not in the least worried about it. I guess it does not necessarily skip a generation, like he likes to say.

So, thank you Dad, everything done in the last 32 years is much appreciated. And Mom, just give me a little bit and I will hopefully list how I am like you as well.

Belated happy Thanksgiving everyone!

W