Germany

Do you ever wistfully long for your homeland? Do you ever dream of visiting the birthplace of your ancestors? To walk the roads they walked, visit the towns where they originated their names? Well, if you're like me, you don't.
On the other hand, Maximillian and Pearly were asking me about my ancestry the other night when we were in the observation blind beside the UFO pit, so I guess I should go back through my cherished memories of my dad Vilhelm the Hobo and the country of his origin - exotic Germany!
My earliest memories of my father go back to the early fifties when my dad would come back for the winter after his yearly train travels. He would cover the dining room table with riches and treasures he had collected from his sojourn. He didn't know about travel bags and rucksacks so he used to wear three or four overcoats and load up the pockets with his stuff. He was so thick around the middle that he used to roll down inclines rather than walk (He was a thinker, my dad). Anyway all kinds of valuables would be spread out on the table and he would let us peruse them: Twigs and small rocks, old bird nests, snail and barnacle shells, broken glass, empty matchbooks What great stuff! A veritable Hobo Solomon! My pops loved shiny things; I remember fighting with my brother Homer over a glass eye. It was still in my dad's head at the time. He used to wear his glass eye facing in because he said it helped him think better if he could see his brain.
He particularly loved metal and if he found old spoons or coins that were discolored or corroded he would sit quietly licking them during those long nights in the freight cars.
Sorry, I kind of went off track there... I loved my dad.
He told us that there was a great war and that he had to leave his homeland and come here to Angus Hat so he could get away from "civilization", whatever that is. But he would regale us with stories about Germany, our country of origin!
My dad was born in a town called Baden-Baden which is just south of Backnang and northwest of Bad Fallingbostel which is about two hundred twelve yards from Bad Homburg vor der Höhe, just west down the road from Bad Salzdetfurth and its sister city Bad Salzuflen and other sister city Bad Salzungen which is north of Bad Soden-Salmünster about a half mile from Bad Sooden-Allendorf which is adjacent to Bad Wimpfen and five miles east of Bad Wildbad - simple enough if you plan to visit!
His childhood was a happy one. before the advent of radio the number one pastime for young people was "frolicking". I don't know what it means but my dad said he and all his friends did it a lot.
They frolicked and they drank beer - or the other way around. He eventually graduated Beer College and was working on his PhD in Beer when the war broke out.
Apparently, Germans are so fond of beer, they have Beer baby formula in the pharmacies. Beer is found everywhere in Germany; so much so that their skating rinks don't freeze at zero because of the beer in the water. The people are so devoted to the craft of beer brewing that they have little breweries in each room of their houses and many carry little suitcases with portable mini breweries so they can have fresh beer at picnics or when traveling. Some people even have micro breweries that fit in a matchbox!
The war changed a lot of things in Germany but sausage recipes have remained the same for nine hundred years. Sausages are easy to make and are great for recycling because you can't see what's in them (pay attention Dr. Suzuki!). Every restaurant serves sausages in Germany; the street vendors sausages contain construction refuse and the more upscale hoity toity "sausagerie" links actually have diamond dust in them (exCUSE ME)!
The landscape of my homeland is as diverse as Lem's sock collection; Everything from polar ice to steaming jungles - Dad spoke often of Tigers and Panthers (or "Panzers" as he called them). There are lots of things to do out in nature: You can go on a musical hike with the Zingenyodelhiken Choir, singing and yodeling as you follow narrow goat paths along cliff walls.
When you get to the top you can jump of the cliff into the Rhine river with the Cliffejumpengershreyin Choir, singing and yodeling as you plummet into the water (watch out for those razor sharp barnacles!).
For evening entertainment, the Germans have cleverly combined the music of a beerhall polka band with Turkish belly dancing to produce what the locals call Shpastikabellentanze-the verbotten dance. This was a dance that was banned during the war. Some say because it defied the standards and practices of the oppressive government. Others say it was banned because belly dancers look ridiculous in Leiderhosen. You'll have to decide who was right when you go there.
I could go on but Pearly just noticed some lights drifting over the horizon so it's lights out for us!
Keep on travellin'!
Blitz