Date: Saturday, December 25, 1999 00:35 Subject: happy xmas eve
Everybody,
Brenda is here, safe and sound (asleep). She stayed awake until almost midnight, which was quite remarkable. We had a nice enough xmas eve. (Brenda wore an apron and a silly hat we found in a cupboard to simulate a mother-type figure, so that Annette wouldn't feel too homesick. C & L simulated a crowd.) No German food was consumed, just a spicy lentil soup and Turkish bread with various "mezzes", the different spreads & pastes the Turks use as appetizers. And a few drinks.
Vita seems to be coping with Brenda's presence. She doesn't like Brenda for some reason. She peed on a cupboard when we first told her about the visit.
Have a good Christmas Eve, and we'll talk to you soon, possibly even before you get this email.
Love,
Scott
Date: Saturday, December 25, 1999 14:04
Subject: festive greetings
Once again, it's time for the seasonal humiliate-the-cat festive e-card.
This year we're doing it with a Berlin theme. How many Berlin icons can you
count?
What can I say that I haven't said already? Not much. We're living in Berlin
for the year, Annette finished her Ph.D. and is now Frau Doktor Annette, I'm
doing "freelance work" when I'm not speedskating or hanging around in the
cafes or exploring this strange and interesting city. In short, life is
good.
Sorry we can't be with everyone in Vancouver, but that would have been one
flight too many. (We're having fun enough celebrating with friends here,
don't worry about us. And what better place to be for New Years?)
Wishing you all the very best in the holiday season. Merry Christmas, Happy
New Year, and all that.
Scott & Annette
Date: Monday, December 27, 1999 14:40
Subject: a difficult way to start the week
Folks,
So we had a bit of a scare this morning...
As you know, since arriving in Berlin we've had this on-again off-again peeing problem with Vita. It appeared to have stopped a few months ago, but then early last week she did it again, three times over 24 hours, just small amounts, but enough that we finally resolved to take her to the vet. Until now we've always had reasonable psychological explanations, but this last bout made no sense at all, and we had also noticed that she was becoming slightly lethargic, with less of an appetite. The changes were very subtle, but enough to cause concern. We made an appointment for this morning, fully expecting to find nothing worse than a minor urinary tract problem.
We explained the problem to the vet, she took a listen with the stethoscope, then immediately did a chest x-ray. It turns out that our little kitty has a very weak heart. It might be congenital, or it might have been caused by sickness during her first difficult year on the streets of Boston. Worse, her lungs have been filling up with fluid. She put up Vita's x-ray next to that of a healthy cat and you could see the difference quite clearly. It's not clear why this started, whether the stress of the trip had anything to do with it or if it was just a random event, or even a slight cold. As I understand it, something compromised her lungs and her heart wasn't strong enough to deal with the fluid build-up, and now the pressure is making the heart weaker. The peeing was just her way of telling us that she wasn't feeling well.
By this point we were pretty terrified. Happily, the prognosis is good. Our little cat probably won't set any longevity records, but she should enjoy a normal, happy life. They gave her a saline IV to help rehydrate her and some medication to help drain the lungs and we will need to give her Digitalis for the next two years to help strengthen her heart muscle. (Cats respond very well to this medication, she said.) We're going back next week for a follow-up visit to see how she's doing, and at some point after that will need to do the annual shots and teeth-cleaning, but for now this is more important.
The really scary part is that we didn't have much time to catch this. If we'd waited a few more weeks we probably would have lost her. The vet said that people often don't bring their cats in until they are quite obviously sick, by which point the lungs are so full of fluid that there is absolutely nothing they can do. So this makes us feel much less guilty, which is of course the dominant emotion when something happens to your pet.
Vita seemed pleased to be home, and is resting happily on Brenda's (recently vacated) guest-bed. I've recovered from the shock (only a few guilty tears coming home on the U-Bahn, I swear) and have resolved to take the best care of her I can. (In case anyone asks, the treatment and drugs won't be all that expensive. Probably cheaper than at home. It will only consume a portion of the Christmas money, and what better gift could there be than keeping Vita alive and well?)
Our friend P1 recommended her vet. It's an odd place. She has a big examination room with two benches going, and four of her own animals wandering in and out: two ridiculous, snuffling French Bulldogs, a rather frisky orange Persian, and a truly colossal, imposing grey Chartreuse cat (think of Nathan on steroids, but fluffier) who would rub against your legs as he walked past. I've never seen this before. Germans do like taking their pets to work, but you'd think that having them in a vet's office would be a little dangerous. On the other hand, seeing other beasts poking about may help to calm the patients (and owners).
So, after that, I don't have too much energy left. Annette & Brenda are going out for the afternoon (a tour of the KaDeWe food floor and a stop at the travel agent to pay for the third and hopefully final flight back to Chicago) while I plan to lay low until it's time to leave for skating. We had a pretty quiet day yesterday, dozing off the effects of Christmas dinner, though we both managed workouts in the afternoon. Then the gals collected us and we spent a fun night at S036, a pretty funky mixed gay/straight sort of club in Kreuzberg.
As for the rest of the week, I have some work I need to finish for some folks in Vancouver, we're both back on our normal training schedule (skating and running on alternate evenings) and there is much tourism afoot. Brenda wants to go to Paris or Amsterdam or somewhere but we'll probably have to give it a miss for financial reasons (vet bills and more bloody plane tickets and I absolutely must see at least two days of the Berlin 6-Day bike races up at the velodrome, which isn't cheap) and Annette also needs to prepare for her six interviews at the AHA in Chicago.
And that's the end of the first post-Christmas update.
Regards,
Scott
Date: Friday, December 31, 1999 17:47
Subject: Happy End Times
Everyone,
This is the official pre-Cataclysm farewell message! Yeltsin's resignation is only the first step, prefiguring his transformation into the Antichrist. The End Times are upon us.
Five-thirty, six-and-a-half hours to go, I've just said farewell to the last sunset of the century. Already we can hear the explosions from across the Oder, as one Polish nuclear plant after another goes up like a giant Roman candle. Actually not, but we have heard continual firecracker explosions for the past week. They let off big bastards here, you can hear them half a mile away, and they will easily take off a hand. Yesterday I watched kids throwing them out of an apartment window onto a parked BMW on the street below.
We've had our big afternoon naps and we're ready to party. There are already half a million people downtown, clogging the Tiergarten, the Brandenburger Tor, and Unter den Linden all the way up to Alexanderplatz. We realize we won't get anywhere near the Tor at midnight, but we will be able to walk through it sometime before dawn. The theory is that we'll go to a running friend's party at eight-thirty for a quick drink, head downtown before ten, then try to be within viewing distance of the light show at the Siegessaule by midnight. But who knows. We'll try to find a club or something later but I expect that the night will simply evolve into a long, slightly drunken ramble through the center of the city.
The weather is cooperating - clear, dry, temperatures around freezing. We are prepared: ear plugs to ward off firecrackers, warm clothes, sturdy boots, a portable radio for emergency bulletins, a flashlight in case we need to cut through the Tiergarten, two or three bottles of champagne and a bottle of scotch. It should be an interesting night.
To satisfy my paranoia, we made minimal Y2K preparations at home - filled up dozen empty mineral water and juice bottles with tap water, bought a few candles and an extra pack of batteries. Mostly I'm concerned about a random power failure. (It's bad enough that they shut down our elevator for five bloody days, just to be extra careful.) The grocery stores are going to be closed for two days so we needed to stock up on food anyway. There was hardly any bread to be found for the past few days, which is odd. We bought Turkish bread when we could. Oh and we've laid in a cache of automatic weapons to defend ourselves in the coming War of the Apocalypse...
See you after the Rapture!
Scott
Date: Sunday, January 2, 2000 15:09
Subject: the New Year's report
Everyone,
Okay, the world didn't end. I was a little disappointed - secretly I'd hoped that the entire U.S. would be plunged into darkness, while the rest of the world remained largely unaffected - but also relieved. I don't think I felt victim to any form of millennial panic, but I did detect in myself a certain unease on the afternoon of the 31st. I think it was probably a consequence of hearing firecrackers around the clock for most of the week, which eventually set me a little on edge.
New Year's Eve was amazing. There were over two million people packed into the city for the celebrations. I've never seen such a huge, orderly, happy crowd. Despite the numbers, the density, the staggering quantities of alcohol and explosives, nothing went wrong. We survived. Perhaps the cold temperatures encouraged sobriety.
We began the evening at the Siegessaule, the victory monument in the centre of the Tiergarten. After a few tense moments in the throng at Bahnhof Friedrichstraße deciding how and where to be after failing to meet up with C & L, we very cleverly attacked from the north by way of Hansaplatz U-Bahn, away from the worst of the crush, and were close to the tower by eleven. Champagne was drunk, sparklers lit, the energy began to build. We were trapped in a massive crowd, jostled but never claustrophobic. (Once the crowd reaches a certain density, people stop throwing firecrackers around, so it's actually quieter and safer. Annette was hit in the shoulder by the remains of a rocket, but otherwise we suffered no pyrotechnic injuries.) At midnight a great cheer went up and we all leapt about screaming, popping champagne, hurling confetti. There was no obvious countdown mechanism, but as most German watches are synchronized to a radio signal emanating from Frankfurt, they all keep the same time and everyone knows exactly when to cheer. (One should find this disturbing, or even slightly frightening.) After the light show at the tower and much eruption of fireworks elsewhere, we fell back in the direction we came, following a long string of marching riot police whose purpose was to encourage movement. We stopped after a few minutes and ducked into the woods, cunningly thinking that we should wait for the crowd to thin out, then go back towards the centre and head up 17. Juni towards the Brandenburger Tor.
The twenty minutes or so we spent in the woods was the most intensely weird and beautiful part of the evening. Shadowy human forms moved through the mist and smoke and darkness; explosions erupted all around us; bursts of light flashed and pulsed through the silhouettes of barren winter trees. It felt like a battlefield. In pop-cultural terms, imagine a surreal fusion of Blair Witch and Apocalypse Now. We finished our second bottle of champagne, warmed ourselves over a cigarette (necessity forcing a less dim view of Brenda's otherwise filthy habit) and formed a pentagram with our last ten sparklers in a lame and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to call up the Goat-Headed One. (We didn't manage to light them all simultaneously, and the Prince of Darkness probably doesn't respond to something as cheerfully short-lived as sparklers anyway.)
Leaving the shelter of the woods, we forced our way through the crowds and began the long march through the Tiergarten, stopping to dance at various outdoor stages along 17. Juni, ducking in and out of the woods, halting for a much-needed Döner at about two-thirty. We made the Brandenburger Tor at about three. We pulled out our final bottle of champagne and toasted the old girl. "May the next century be a little quieter," I said. There were still huge crowds dancing, drinking and celebrating in the square. Growing cold as the temperature fell further below freezing, we began moving down Unter den Linden, towards Alexanderplatz. Fatigue eventually claimed us near Friedrichstraße; we turned south, caught the U6 and made our way home sometime between four and five in the morning.
We stayed up for another hour or two, hoping to watch television coverage of celebrations (or catastrophes) further west, but could only flip despondently between reruns of appalling German musical variety shows until we finally fell asleep, a little before dawn.
It was an amazing night. It's very difficult to describe the mood and the energy in the crowd - it had to be experienced. Berlin must have ranked among the top three or four places to experience the New Year. Certainly more fun than Seattle. Paris looked fascinating, though partying on a warm beach in Rio has a certain appeal when you've been out all night in the cold.
New Year's Day wasn't especially energetic. Brenda rose at around four, complaining bitterly about having to witness the last traces of daylight visible outside. I felt no hangover, only exhaustion. We joined C & L for a quiet dinner at Milagro, where we exchange belated New Year's greetings, then came home and went directly to bed at a reasonable hour. Even Brenda felt no desire to stay up all night.
One final note... The official German Millennium Baby was born three seconds after midnight, here in Berlin, to an eighteen year old mother who apparently had no idea that she was pregnant. She was at a party and began complaining of stomach pains. An ambulance collected her at eleven-thirty and after "two pushes" a child appeared. When someone called her boyfriend at the party and told him the news, he apparently decided he'd had enough to drink. (Though under the circumstances I would have forgiven him if he'd decided to continue.) I can't help but laugh at this, particularly given that I'm currently reading Midnight's Children.
Regards,
Scott
Pictures!
Laying out the provisions. We forgot the space blanket and whistle, but luckily didn't need to bivouac in the woods overnight. The thermos contained hot Scotch toddy, a wise improvisation.
Annette poised and ready, a few minutes before midnight.
A shot over the heads of the crowd of tall blond people.
Amidst the chaos at midnight.
The Siegessaule lit up, from different angles.
A very, very sad, tipsy attempt at a Satanic ritual in the woods. We did not summon anything the least bit goat-like.
The Brandenburger Tor at three in the morning.
Annette toasting the old thing.
The reality of six hours outside in sub-zero temperatures has slowly begun to sink in.
Brenda, late the next afternoon, looking well.
Date: Sunday, January 2, 2000 22:11
Subject: other news
Right, a bit of non-New Year's news...
We did nothing today, though we did get up at a reasonable hour, tennish or thereabouts. Best to start the new millennium well-rested. Okay, after dinner we cleaned the apartment, which was a sty after three days of merriment and recovery and Annette is starting to do some work now. Brenda is stomping around in my big boots after having yet another cigarette out on the landing, and has threatened to bake.
We're going to have a busy week. Annette leaves for Chicago (again) on Thursday morning, for the wretched AHA and her six interviews. She's going to need a day or two for basic research about each of the universities and a day or two to shop for "the outfit".
Meanwhile, we're trying to do a little more tourism. We'll hit the museums for the last week of the 20th century German art mega-thing that's been happening since September, maybe catch the new exhibition at the Martin Gropius Bau, troop up the Reichstag the first time we see blue sky, and generally do stuff. Next weekend I'm spending two days at the Berlin 6-Day races (professional cycling at the velodrome) and also owe Brenda one good night of Berlin-style dance-until-dawn nightclubbing, which may not be possible without some powerful stimulants, but we'll see.
Vita seems to be doing well. We have a follow-up visit first thing Monday morning, just to be sure. I'm getting to be quite good at splitting and crushing the little Digitalis pills and mixing them into her wet food.
And, last but not least, there's news about me. I appear to have a job. After a few weeks dancing around, I've agreed to a semi-permanent arrangement with a company in Vancouver, the same guys I wrote the manual for in exchange for Annette's laptop back in September. I'll be working as a contractor but at a fixed monthly rate so we're not counting hours and filling in timesheets. They pay me more than I used to make for a commitment of three weeks per month, plus an allowance for the cost of staying online half the day. This suits me fine, since it leaves enough time for other pursuits and any other freelance jobs that might pop up. This suits Annette even better, since she was sick of our having absolutely no money. While I've really, really enjoyed not doing much of anything these past four months, I - well, technically, she - realized that I wasn't being very creative with my time - I was most definitely not writing a novel - and that there was no sense being poor if you weren't treating the poverty as an investment. Hence the job. I figure that working three-quarter time will be perfect, because it will give me the impetus to work regularly but still leave enough room for other writing, tourism, travel and of course training. And it will be nice to quadruple our monthly income.
And that's all for now, your second update of the new century.
Regards,
Scott
