I think it was Will Rogers, the great American humorist, when he was asked about why he was so funny when talking about politics, he said, “There is no trick to being a humorist when you have the whole government working for you.”
Grab a cup of coffee, I am just going to write about my yesterday. PMS, idiocy, stupidity, the joy of seeing a Bratwurst vendor. I have no idea where today's adventure will go?
Did you ever have a day where you woke up, were told that everything about you was wrong and you had the apparent value of a coffee stain on the floor and from that moment, it actually got worse, even weirder?
That was my Sunday. For the female readers, Please realize men will not have a clue what menstruation cramps and pains are really like, or what happens when the hormone levels go out of synch like gravity effects high tides on full moons.
You have to remember, we are men. We are simple beings. Sort of like amoeba, or perhaps on a good day a paramecium. It takes very little to amuse us. We can be just happy saying nothing and building some idea or thing.
If you want to get us to understand menstrual pain while spewing forth everything wrong about us, try saying this, “Imagine that you just ate two dozen hot wings, a full pepperoni and sausage pizza, then three chili dogs, 6 spicy tacos, and washed it all down with a case of beer and a dozen fresh krispy kreme glazed donuts.” (Stop talking for a moments and allow our primitive minds to savor each delicious bite of the food. It is critical you stop talking for a few seconds for this to work - the first that speaks looses)
When the primate grunts and says, “wow, that sounds great!" reply, “now, imagine that you ate all that and you had a cork inserted into your anus for 3-4 days where nothing could escape.”
While crude and rudimentary, this analogy would garner some sympathy from men for when your loved one can’t find one thing you can do while raging in her hormonal cocktail that men just will never understand, nor will women ever understand how their behavior changes towards the ones they love.
So now, you have the start of the day. Pretty terrific eh? I hope someone gets the humor out of it.
Being the kind, benevolent and caring man I am, I did the best thing I knew for my self preservation, I got out of dodge a bit earlier than needed to go work a football game. When I checked the time, I thought, “I have a few moments where can walk around the little old village before the game. I had seen it many times in the bus and it looked really interesting.
This is one odd point of contention in Europe. During the wars, Switzerland remained neutral. To many of us, we don’t really understand this, but the Swiss constitution says the country will only go to war if attacked. I joke that in 24 hours you could have the largest standing army, as everyone has a gun, but the bullets are carefully controlled. So one fascinating fact about Switzerland, is pretty much everyone is trained to shoot rifles and machine guns, yet, there is scant gun crime in the country. The other part is that you can see many old original buildings that were not destroyed and had to be rebuilt during the war. If you go over to where they built zeppelins by crossing the Bodensee – you will see that the towns were basically leveled in bombing raids.
That is why I enjoy Switzerland quite a bit. You can be walking into many old original buildings. It is a testament to the craftsmen of Europe.
Where was I?I am lost here.
Ah yes, so I walk along this little town street and admire some interesting shops. It is Sunday, the weather is beautiful, and I am overjoyed to be doing some sort of work outside of sitting in front of the computer planning the future and Colorado.
I took some nice photos, wished an old cigar shop were open so I could see inside, and kept walking along a quite, almost deserted little town. I went into a magnificent church, talked to god, saw one of the more interesting paintings of Jesus, came and hope to have taken a few good images of old doors, windows and interesting stuff.
As I walked by the market, I and looked at a poster on a Shoppe window
“FOOTBALL! Samstagg, Novemember 1, and the two teams logos with some German writing I didn't understand, but realized it was about the same time as the game I was to work.
I seriously had a brain meltdown, almost crapped my pants, and as I thought, “huh? It is November 2; I thought the game was on Sunday? Oh my god, I missed the freaking game? No, tell me I didn’t do that.”
Now I actually thought my wife was might be right, I was an idiot that could not even get the date of a game right. It is not like there are many of them, “yes boss, sorry, I am an idiot, I forgot simple German numbers and days of the week.”
“No problems, mark, have a nice life, no need for you to remember on account of us ever again.”
I looked around for the sign of fans or anyone wearing the colors, there were none, my heart dropped even further, “How can I forget the right day? I swear the game was today. I swear the game was on Sunday?”
Panic setting in got the better of me and I pulled the laptop out to see if I put the right dates down for my wife to put in her uber organized and categorized life. I guess opposites attract?
Sunday, November 2nd – game.
That is when full panic set in. “How could I have written in the wrong day and date? I really am an idiot.
All I could do on the bus to the arena was how to write an apology letter to a group that allows me a chance to work, despite the huge language issue. A guy got on with what looked like a players work out uniform. After working with the NFL and NBA – the stuff the players wear is not the same “fan club” stuff they advertise. Then I thought, “He must be on his way for physical therapy for injury.” As you can tell, I was thinking European football was like American football – in a few weeks, everyone is wrecked and you tape together all your body parts.
As we approached the arena, there was no big crowd, only four people sitting at an outdoor table.
Then I saw a bratwurst-vending stand being set up. It was as if heaven opened up in front of me.
I used to be in charge of moving several dozen trucks and hundreds of people around the planet to sell food and merchandise for shows. So the irony of me being able to realize some even was going to happen that day gave me a glimmer of hope that I did have the right days to come work. I have never forgotten a show or event before…that is over 4,000 plus. (yes, most of the time i had no idea what city, country or which hotel i was staying - make not to write about japan tours in future)
I digress, I have never been so happy to see a St Gallen Bratwurst vendor in my life. I even took pictures of his delicious fare.
But I didn’t push my luck in telling him that when I moved to Switzerland and someone served St. Gallen Olma bratwurst, I asked for some mustard.
The truth is you don’t’ need anything with this sausage. It is truly delicious as is, no condiment needed.
My brother in law still jokes me today when I get on his nerves, “mark, remember I didn’t report you to the local authorities when you asked to put mustard on St Gallen Olma Bratwurst. That is like a cardinal sin in Switzerland!”
The game and all went smoothly, I watched and calculated how much cheaper it is to operate an football team versus the astronomical costs with American football.
I still don’t know if they send players to acting school? Or is it a genetically learned anomaly of the laws of physics where players will not actually ever come in contact with each other and one falls to the ground, for a few moments appearing mortally injured – only to miraculously heal and play on a few moments later.
What this does, is give me hope that I probably will always be an idiot in my wife’s eyes who can’t be the super organized, well groomed fashionista that can talk for hours about whatever it is women talk about. Her only hope is that I mysteriously turn gay and then we can yak away about skin exfoliation, color palettes and decorating.
But alas, I might be more compassionate to heavy cramping and PMS, as the thought of ingesting massive quantities of junk food and being literally, “plugged up” as a man – probably is as close as we will understand to our females monthly pain. Men will understand, “Imagine not being able to flatulate for a few days? All that gas backed up inside you!”
Maybe I should not have asked my wife, “Want to go to the doctor?”
Damn, the reaction of how big an idiot I am really increased greatly after saying that.
Thankfully, I still run fast. If you actually read all this, send along an email with your shirt size, I think I will create a t-shirt or something. Understanding PMS gives me hope that one day I will be able to speak German.
Well? A guy has to look for any possible silver lining in the clouds of PMS strorms. The other thing is that my wife won't read this blog. Few do. the best place to hide something you don't want to really be found is in plain view.
The last line just opened up another post idea, about if telling yoru mom what you really were doing as a kid..."no you weren't!" (have to be careful, i think my mom drops in from time to time.)