So I took to handwriting my blog and then typing it out later on in Kamp-Linfort on my own computer. Its faster, less frustrating and certainly cheaper than trying to learn a new keyboard while connecting to the internet at the going rate of 1 Euro 50 per half hour. This morning I couldn’t resist looking for the results to the Super Bowl. The last time I missed a Super Bowl was the one before Joe Montana and Dan Marino squared off for the first time. I think that happened in 1984, so it’s been a while, and I needed to see what happened and if my dream of a perfect ending had come true (at least based on available options). I was both happy and shocked. I guess I just wanted Bill Belichek and Tom Brady to remember what it is like to be us mere mortals. I posed the question to my mythology class last semester: why do Americans take such delight in delight in tearing down their own heroes? The easy answer is jealousy, and that is probably part of it if someone could really be truly honest with themselves. More so, however, is how quickly we confer god status on all sorts of people in the public spot light without thoroughlt gauging worthiness of a title so all-becoming. When thrust into that level of scrutiny, even the smallest character flaw is ever magnified and when the rest of us feel that the praise is unjust, and as such I for a long time felt about the mountain of accolades that were afforded Tom Brady, it is a grand sense of “I Told You So” when they fall or fail. Brittney Spears was elevated to super stardom as a teenager, when most kids are stressing passing the responsibility load of a driving test. And we act like it was some big debacle that under that scrutiny and pressure, she caved. She used alcohol and drugs and went off the deep end, and we are surprised. There was a time when heroes had to earn our respect. It seems now that just talent alone can afford that status. There is no need to prove oneself as long as you have something that other people want. How could Brittney not have failed? Jamie Lynn? Forget it. She doesn’t have a chance.
In any event, I awoke this morning at . Once I showered and prepared for the day, I was down stairs by , and quickly typed yesterday’s blog notes up as fast as I could, while kids began filtering in looking for the breakfast and internet access. Breakfast and blogging, the world’s new B & B. After a traditional German breakfast (hard roll, butter, salami, cheese, and four cups of strong coffee – although cereal, milk, and yogurt were available), all for three Euro and paid for by GSG, I was in great and spazzy spirits, especially considering how bummed I was the previous day at the realization that I lost so many Berlin pictures. We again took the S-Bonn to the Alexanderplatz. We stopped at the market outside so people could get cash, buy water and odds and ends such as food, candy, and batteries. We then hiked across the court yard spotting the old
The Berliner Dom was the most unreal cathedral that I have ever seen. Hand carved wood, stone, marble, and gold adorned the most massive domed ceiling I could even imagine. There were pictures of St. Matthew, John the Evangelist, among others, as well as statues depicting Protestant greats such as Martin Luther and John Calvin. Thankfully, no one asked me why Martin Luther’s statue was white instead of black. I can only imagine the artistry of the dome is outdone by only the Sistine Chapel itself. It was that impressive. Despite being Catholic, I entered a pew and said prayers for my grandparents. Unfortunately, even running on a damaged memory card, my camera battery died and I am going to have to wait to get pictures from Casey as he promised he would shoot a ton. After exhausting the first floor (and not realizing that we could go upstairs – argh!) Hagan and I toured the basement where there were the remains of the German Royal family. Between his knowledge of German and my knowledge of Latin (please hear that, Mrs. Jones, wherever you are!) we were able to decipher much of what we saw, including that kurfursten meant some type of duke or earl (with konig and konigen being king and queen, respectively), and the words for twin son and twin sister. We also noted that there was an alarming run of infant mortality in the German Royal Family between 1650-1700, and were surprised by how many royal children had been born during that time.
Upon leaving, we took a double decker bus to the Postdamerplatz, or thereabouts and walked the path of the former
We walked around a bit more, with Casey getting pictures for me of two statues that celebrated diversity and understanding in the world, and even the acceptace of world religion. The statues were golden bears (the bear being the symbol of