When the bridge is a'rockin...

Don't come a'knockin. I believe that is how the old saying goes. To go, or not to go, that was the question. And the answer?, to go. Or, maybe just GO!!! So I did.
...
As I sit here on someone else's big red ball, I see the scene replaying vividly in my awesome new sunglasses that play movies. When I first got on the bus, I was not sure if it was headed in the right direction. A few minutes and 2 stops later I hopped out of the bus like a pro. First I saw the river, the Donau I believe, and then a saw a gathering of black-clothed people across the river.
I carried the necessary/emergency supplies on my back. A crossword puzzle book, McFit magazine, some water, cough drops, and 1 umbrella. Thank the heavens for not opening up and raining on my fellow fest goers and I, but it usually doesn't hurt to be prepared.

The Jahninselfest turned out to be bigger then it had appeared from across the Donau- as I neared the entrance I noticed there were 2 stages on either side of Stone Bridge, with even more ebon-dressed music fans scattered in between. I recognized the front man without much doing by his hat which I remembered from a photo I had seen while surfing. Next, I saw my seemingly Irish neighbor, decked out in his green shirt. I wondered if they would see me perched on Stone Bridge taking in the scene.

The entrance proved to be a portal into a magical meadow. The willow type trees spewed their seed, reminiscent of soft snowflakes falling upon us in slow motion. I wished I knew taiji quan at that moment. I passed the fare and the port-a-potties and finally found what I was looking for. There was much hugging, mega hellos, and mediocre handshakes. I would have enjoyed a mega milkshake too, now that I think of it. As the band of Nomads began to play, I tossed a bone with a little meat left on it to the dogs of the tribe. They fought over it for a moment, but didn't waste to much energy. They knew there'd be plenty more where that came from, as was always the case after a successful buffalo hunt.

Tales of Nomads, pirates, forests and barns bounced off Stone Bridge while the ethereal snowflakes rode the drafts down to earth. Traditional dancing, and the brew of the underworld accompanied the music, all working together to create the thing that cannot be described with words, only imagined.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, or, as my buddy Bob Frost used to say, "Nothing Gold Can Stay". So that was that. As darkness encompassed the crowd, the joy and laughter continued to flourish, and I went back across Stone Bridge.

Wall E

Anyone ever seen that movie Walle? It is pretty good.
As i was walking home on a sidewalk along a pretty busy road I noticed a robot driving a car. The car was stopped at a red light waiting to turn my way. It seemed to be looking right at me. I kept walking anyway. Although I was not headed straight for it, I was still getting closer, but still, there was a robot driving the car. Finally I got as far as I could, and had to wait at a red light myself- now it was C3po's move. Once the car moved, I quickly noticed that it was not a robot after all. It was actually a guy driving the car holding a video camera up, apparently recording. It was the camera that I mistook for robot head.

Even though it was not a robot, I think the weirdness level was the same as if it had been one.

Sometimes I wonder about this place...

The Gym

I have been trying to go to the gym earlier lately- trying to miss the after work crowd. To my delight there have also been less incidences of all the things that irk me, i.e. people smoking right outside the main door so smoke gets inside, people smoking, in general, before working out, or just as they get outside afterwards, less dumbbells and other such free weights scattered all over the floor, less mullets, and less "really cool and strong dudes" wearing tank tops, and less people workign out in khakis, khaki shorts, or polo shirts.

While this is overall a relief, I realize it is probably just because there are less people there in the afternoon, and therefore less of a percentage of people are available to fall into one of the above categories. I mean, who works out in a shirt with a collar on it. Alas, there is still a high percentage of softies wearing these working out gloves throughout their entire workout, including cardio.

If you are reading this, and you are, you might be asking yourself: How serious could this kid be working out if he is taking the time to notice so many things. The answer is very seriously, and very hard. I just happen to pay attention to details, and once I see something, especially if it peeves me and I therefore notice it, it goes onto the mental checklist, and I don't even need to break my stride, so to speak.

Shortcut To Mushrooms

Sometimes when we see a Hobbit in today's world, he reminds us of someone out of the past. A time traveller perhaps. But then when you think about it more, it is mostly because the Hobbit comes from a land without all of the gadgets and doo-dads that you see filling our store fronts today, and they are simply not accustomed too such excess.

These very thoughts crossed my mind as I crossed Bilbo's path again today as I neared the egress point of Old Town intending to leave the safety of the the city walls. There he was, as short as ever, and decked out in his army-camo vest, sporting his guns. At first I wondered how on Middle Earth a hobbit could get a pair of arms like that, but then I realized with all the farming and whatnot, it is quite obvious- like Powder.

I decided to cross the street and observe for a bit. I watched as he perused the few racks set outside of a small shop on sale for ,99 euros. He really seemed to enjoy the fly swatters. He pulled out a few different ones, even though they were all identical aside from the color of the plastic. Practicing his swing with each to find the best fit, he gave himself a tap on the ass, amusing not only himself, verily, but me as well. He gave a few expert swings at an imaginary fly, amusing himself even further as I judged by his laughter.

Ooooh, hobbits.

"Probably the earliest fly swatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick."
- Deep Thoughts, Jack Handey