I don't recall visiting a zoo as a kid. Sure, I went to Busch Gardens Tampa, which is part zoo and part theme park. This was in the days before Disney opened up their bigger, better, more expensive version, Animal Kingdom. And, of course, I watched Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom every Sunday night with Marlin Perkins and his erstwhile assistant, Jim. I fondly recall Marlin narrating the day's adventures and Jim nearly getting gored, eaten, trampled, or molested by the local wildlife. Only by the grace of God, fancy foot-work and judicious editing did Jim avoid those life theatening (and embarassing) engagements.
Last weekend, I bundled myself onto the U-bahn once again, and set out to visit the Wilhelma Zoo, conveniently located here in Stuttgart. The closer I got to the zoo entrance, the larger the percentage of children onboard the train. Happily, I realized I could follow my fellow animal lovers to the entrance of said zoo. The price was quite reasonable: 11.40 EUROS, that's less than $20, for those who are interested.
My first impression of the place was a vague recollection of The Wizard of Oz. Allow me to explain. When Dorothy is caught in the twister and plunked down in Munchkin Land crushing the first Wicked Witch, she opens the door to a world in technicolor. No longer is she relegated to a Sepia-tone environment. I was similarly stunned. Flowers stretched out in multiple hues, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, all on a field of green green grass. It was somewhat breath-taking. I whipped out my trusty Fuji digital camera and started snapping pics.
YOU CAN VIEW THEM HERE!
I saw all kinds of birds, fish, African Safari-type critters and their famous new resident, Wilbur the baby Polar Bear. Wilbur was born in December 2007, so he's not even a year old. He frolics to the delight of young and old alike in a huge outdoor swimming pool. On this particular day, he was playing with an older Polar Bear. I don't know if it was Mom, Dad, an uncle, perhaps an acquaintance of his parents, who can say? What does matter is, they were swimming and splashing and having a grand time, and all I could think about was some chuckle-head scaling the glass wall and getting eaten right there in front of all those kids. If you've never seen an actual polar bear, friend, you don't stand a chance against one. Even Wilbur could rip out your liver and feast on it while your steaming remains cooled in the Arctic perma-frost. Cute as they are, these are dangerous animals. Fortunately, no one was foolish enough to jump in, so I have no action shots for you today. ;-)
~dave~
VIII: My Day in Court
Way way way back when, nigh onto thirty years or so, I took up racquet. I took up ball. I moseyed into a racquetball court and found that it was GOOD! I wasn't, but IT was.
In due course, I learned angles, ricochets, spin. I learned the art of the kill shot, the sublime perfection of a cross court winner, the awe inspiring roll-out and the all-important double reverse pinch. This is not to say that I can perform these shots at will, but I have, on occasion, been successful in performing one from time to time.
When I was living in the great state of Florida, I had a reliable cadre of fellow enthusiasts and we would meet on a somewhat weekly basis to prove our mettle against each other, vying for alpha dominance in the landscape that is floor, ceiling and four unforgiving walls. I do not believe I am at all incorrect when I state that my win record was squarely above 500, and my friends would agree that I was always available for a game or two...or five.
Leap forward to the Fall of 2006...
I move to the D.C. area for a job, and since I know no one in the area, I immediately start looking for a public racquetball court because I know that my fellow aficianados will congregate there, and I can get both my game 'fix' and assert my dominance in a whole new state. I do not find one. Dang. Realizing that Washington D.C. is the shrine of capitalism, nay the Mecca of capitalism, I scour the nearby gyms in hopes of finding one that offers racquetball as part of the amenities. Again, I fail. My dear friends and readers, in the land of the free and the brave, in the city where the legislature of our country is formed, where the inalienable right to 'pursue happiness' is not only encouraged, but mandated by LAW! I cannot find a freaking court! Despair sets in. Waistline expands. Skills diminish. (sigh)
Leap forward 22 months...
I'm sent to Germany to work for three months. Again, I don't know anyone, but this time I don't speak the language, understand the culture, and certainly do not know my way around the area. However, as an American working on a military establishment, I am granted some perks, one of which is free use of the gym. Since the pastry and bread here are fantastic(!), I decide it might be a good idea to make use of this perk. Lo and behold, a court. No, two courts. With wooden floors. Glass rear walls. Free for my use! GOD BLESS AMERICA and ITS FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN! Tears spring unbidden to my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of rapture. Tears of disappointment, because all my gear is rotting in a closet in Virginia.
Arghh!
I am not deterred.
I buy new gear: a racquet, a glove, eye protection, balls.
I play; it is glorious...almost.
I have no opponent to awe.
No one gasps at my command of the playing field.
There is no dominance.
My ebullience is short lived.
Until...
yesterday I saw another lone racqueteer. "Care for a game?" I asked, hoping like a sophomore chess clubber asking the cheerleader captain to the prom. The game was ON! Now the glory. Now the kill-shot. Now the sweat, the strain, the reach, pouncing, swinging, running. Now the ecstasy that can only be felt by Olympians who win the gold. Ahhhhhh....!
I got my ass kicked, but damn, I loved it.
~db~
In due course, I learned angles, ricochets, spin. I learned the art of the kill shot, the sublime perfection of a cross court winner, the awe inspiring roll-out and the all-important double reverse pinch. This is not to say that I can perform these shots at will, but I have, on occasion, been successful in performing one from time to time.
When I was living in the great state of Florida, I had a reliable cadre of fellow enthusiasts and we would meet on a somewhat weekly basis to prove our mettle against each other, vying for alpha dominance in the landscape that is floor, ceiling and four unforgiving walls. I do not believe I am at all incorrect when I state that my win record was squarely above 500, and my friends would agree that I was always available for a game or two...or five.
Leap forward to the Fall of 2006...
I move to the D.C. area for a job, and since I know no one in the area, I immediately start looking for a public racquetball court because I know that my fellow aficianados will congregate there, and I can get both my game 'fix' and assert my dominance in a whole new state. I do not find one. Dang. Realizing that Washington D.C. is the shrine of capitalism, nay the Mecca of capitalism, I scour the nearby gyms in hopes of finding one that offers racquetball as part of the amenities. Again, I fail. My dear friends and readers, in the land of the free and the brave, in the city where the legislature of our country is formed, where the inalienable right to 'pursue happiness' is not only encouraged, but mandated by LAW! I cannot find a freaking court! Despair sets in. Waistline expands. Skills diminish. (sigh)
Leap forward 22 months...
I'm sent to Germany to work for three months. Again, I don't know anyone, but this time I don't speak the language, understand the culture, and certainly do not know my way around the area. However, as an American working on a military establishment, I am granted some perks, one of which is free use of the gym. Since the pastry and bread here are fantastic(!), I decide it might be a good idea to make use of this perk. Lo and behold, a court. No, two courts. With wooden floors. Glass rear walls. Free for my use! GOD BLESS AMERICA and ITS FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN! Tears spring unbidden to my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of rapture. Tears of disappointment, because all my gear is rotting in a closet in Virginia.
Arghh!
I am not deterred.
I buy new gear: a racquet, a glove, eye protection, balls.
I play; it is glorious...almost.
I have no opponent to awe.
No one gasps at my command of the playing field.
There is no dominance.
My ebullience is short lived.
Until...
yesterday I saw another lone racqueteer. "Care for a game?" I asked, hoping like a sophomore chess clubber asking the cheerleader captain to the prom. The game was ON! Now the glory. Now the kill-shot. Now the sweat, the strain, the reach, pouncing, swinging, running. Now the ecstasy that can only be felt by Olympians who win the gold. Ahhhhhh....!
I got my ass kicked, but damn, I loved it.
~db~
VII: Lions and Tiger and
BEARS!!
Bears Invade Stuttgart!
Heroic American Visitor Captures Them!
Today I took the U-bahn (that's a train) to Stuttgart. The Buddy Bears are visiting the area, and I went down to take a look.
CLICK HERE FOR ALBUM
Some artists stylized the bear in native garb, some added accessories, many just used the bear motif as a canvas and added all kinds of country specific items.
There were over a hundred bears, and I took a picture of each one. I didn't realize how long it was going to take to crop and rename them all, whew! It's a good thing I took pics of the footplates on each statue so I'd have a record of what country went with each bear.
There weren't many people there when I started this morning, but as the day went on, more and more viewers showed up to bask in the awesomeness of ursine statuary.
There were lots of different styles, and many really neat looking ones. Of course I'm partial to the U.S. bear, but the Chinese bear looks kinda-sorta like a deranged Winnie the Pooh, which really tickled me; the Irish bear was designed as a leprechaun; the Yemen bear actually looked more pig-like, but I still thought it was pretty cool. The Iraq bear had some kids on a flying carpet; it was very Aladdin-like. If you look closely, and I don't know if it's noticeable in my amateur photography skills, you can see that the four children on the carpet are black, white, red and yellow. I was pretty happy to see that, especially on a bear from Iraq...makes you think, no?
However, the greatest bear of all, in my humble opinion, belongs to the fine specimen from Moldova. I thought it was both original and hilarious.
Since I was in the area, I took a few shots of the local park that the bears were inhabiting. (I think the fountain needs Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler in it though. Yes, I realize Ross isn't in that list; I don't like him.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Enjoy!
Bears Invade Stuttgart!
Heroic American Visitor Captures Them!
Today I took the U-bahn (that's a train) to Stuttgart. The Buddy Bears are visiting the area, and I went down to take a look.
CLICK HERE FOR ALBUM
Some artists stylized the bear in native garb, some added accessories, many just used the bear motif as a canvas and added all kinds of country specific items.
There were over a hundred bears, and I took a picture of each one. I didn't realize how long it was going to take to crop and rename them all, whew! It's a good thing I took pics of the footplates on each statue so I'd have a record of what country went with each bear.
There weren't many people there when I started this morning, but as the day went on, more and more viewers showed up to bask in the awesomeness of ursine statuary.
There were lots of different styles, and many really neat looking ones. Of course I'm partial to the U.S. bear, but the Chinese bear looks kinda-sorta like a deranged Winnie the Pooh, which really tickled me; the Irish bear was designed as a leprechaun; the Yemen bear actually looked more pig-like, but I still thought it was pretty cool. The Iraq bear had some kids on a flying carpet; it was very Aladdin-like. If you look closely, and I don't know if it's noticeable in my amateur photography skills, you can see that the four children on the carpet are black, white, red and yellow. I was pretty happy to see that, especially on a bear from Iraq...makes you think, no?
However, the greatest bear of all, in my humble opinion, belongs to the fine specimen from Moldova. I thought it was both original and hilarious.
Since I was in the area, I took a few shots of the local park that the bears were inhabiting. (I think the fountain needs Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler in it though. Yes, I realize Ross isn't in that list; I don't like him.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Enjoy!
VI: The Benefits of Simple Exercise
Dear friends, we all know how hard it is to begin an exercise program. We are constantly bombarded with unrealistic images from Hollywood, Bollywood, the world of advertisements, television, newspapers...you name it, there's someone thinner than YOU selling something you don't want with the promise that you can also achieve their success if you just drop a couple pounds. Keeping that in mind, today I decided (after three weeks of gorging myself) that it would be an excellent idea for me to 'do' something other than sit in front of a computer screen.
So, I went for a little walk, not far, not fast, just a little jaunt around the hotel. The sky was threatening rain, but it held off, and although it was a tad humid, the overall temperature was probably no higher than 72. I saw a couple of bunnies frolicing in the grass. I saw children biking. I tried (in vain) to read the signs on the establishments in the area (although, truth be told, I believe I was successful in deciphering a few of them). I found a fifty Euro note on the sidewalk. I then...what? Wait a sec? A fifty Euro note? Equivalent to eighty bucks American? Is that right? Yes, that's exactly right. While walking down Plieninger Strasse back to the hotel, I saw some paper on the ground with the number '50' on it. Honestly, I don't know the descriptions of the Euro very well, so I half expected it to be a fake with some kind of ad for a local bar or club. When I got back to the hotel, I asked the desk clerks (Fabianna and the exceedingly lovely Sarah) if it was real. They confirmed its authenticity and I was instantly eight bucks richer.
So, my dear readers and friends, exercise and you will reap the benefits. And sometimes, those benefits are financial.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry no pics of the Netherlands this week due to inclement weather to the North; I'll try again next week though.
V: Nuremburg
I don't know if this is going to work, but here's an album of pictures I took while in Nuremburg last week.
 |
| Nuremburg |
I hope everyone can open the file and take a look.
I was going to go to the Netherlands this weekend, but the weather is supposed to be rather miserable so I'm not going to invest 70 Euro on a trip that gets washed out.
Maybe next weekend will be a little less moist and I can get to a new location. If this post works as I hope, then expect more pics.
Thanks for looking!
IV: History^2
This is going to be a historical weekend for me. And not historical in that 'I'll remember it for all time', but historical in that 'there will be a lot of opportunities for me to reflect on history.'
Friday is Independence Day. Since I'm working in Germany, it's just another day for the natives but, there's going to be a little shin-dig down at Patch Barracks for the Americans stationed there. Sure, there's going to be a whole swarm of kids running around and lots of military ceremony, but there'll be some grilling going on, too, and it's been a long time since I had burgers and dogs off a grill. Hopefully there'll be some fireworks going off as well; yeah, pyrotechnics are awesome!
On Saturday, I'm going on a day-trip to Nuremburg. I suspect that there will be some focus on the Nazi trials that were held there, but I'm hoping that's just a part of the trip. From what I've read, the people of Nuremburg are trying to move past that ugly time in history.
This will be the first 'real' tourist-y thing I do, so I'm hoping it's both fun and informative. My camera hasn't even made it out of its case yet, so I better be sure to charge up the batteries before I go! If all goes well, I will be posting actual pics next time around.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)