This was in the paper the other day, and I've since seen it around town (seems to be part of a new AIDS prevention campaign). Of course something like this would freak a lot of people out in the States--especially if, God forbid, it received any public funding as I think it might have here--but my sense is that sexuality seems to be treated a bit more matter-of-factly here. (Incidentally, for some reason I find it amusing that the public health department here is called the Bundesamt für Gesundheit.)

Speaking of hip and happenin', I just saw an ad for a concert tomorrow night featuring Fred & the Stompin Cowboys at Truckstop-Dancehall Arlesheim. I'm thinking Swiss country music probably kicks some serious ass--these people know their cows.

Since Gretchen isn't here to keep everyone updated as to what's hip and happenin' in Basel, direct from today's Baslerstab I give you this week's Top 10 according to Radio Basel 1:
1) Black Eyed Peas - "Hey Mama"
2) Usher - "Yeah"
3) Baby Bash - "Suga Suga"
4) Anastacia - "Left Outside Alone"
5) George Michael - "Amazing"
6) Carmen Fenk - "In Love With You Again"
7) Enrique Iglesias - "Not In Love"
8) Max - "Can't Wait Until Tonight"
9) Britney Spears - "Toxic"
10) Jamelia - "Superstar"

Tomorrow is a holiday here--Labour Day, evidently--but unlike in the States, if a holiday falls on a weekend, you don't get the nearest Friday or Monday off. Of course this year it turns out almost every major holiday is on a Saturday or Sunday, so we get very few days off.

One partial compensation for this hardship is that there are probably at least three, and probably more, places within a 5-minute walk where I can get good pastries.

So...holidays, baked goods...baked goods, holidays...I guess life really is all about trade-offs.

Following her surgery, Char was supposed to be in the ICU but since they didn't have any spare beds she was in the burn unit instead (which meant Gretchen had to scrub and put on sterile garb every time she visited). She got great care there, but luckily she has now improved enough to get a room on the surgical floor, so she has a window, etc. The doctors are happy with her recovery, but we're hoping that moving will help her even more (hospitals aren't fun places to begin with, but I suspect burn units in particular are bleak).

The conference I was speaking at in Vienna was focused on Central and Eastern Europe, so the vast majority of attendees were from former Eastern Bloc nations (my nametag initially said I was from Romania (?!?)). Anyway, I don't think I've ever seen so many people smoking in my life. You would walk out of the conference rooms and it was as if someone had turned on a fog machine as everyone tried to get through a pack or two during the break. Non-smokers deserve hazard pay just for mingling at a conference like that...

As much as this isn't the happiest time for us at the moment, there is one bit of good news: the Padres are in second place, just one game behind the loathsome Dodgers. Granted, the season is still young (and I've probably now jinxed them), but usually by this time of year they've more or less wrapped up another last-place finish.

It's a bit difficult to have much of a sense of humor with what's going on with Gretchen's mom (who seems to be stable and getting good care but is still sick) and being so far away, but I guess even in bad times it helps to laugh...

When I was in the taxi from the airport to the hotel in Vienna, all of a sudden the taxi driver seemed to get a bit of congestion and started trying to hock a loogie (you know that snorting sound when someone is trying to clear snot from their sinuses?). Well, the guy must have gone on for a solid 10 minutes of snorting, hocking, hacking, etc.--I was really afraid of what he was going to eventually cough up, but thankfully when he dropped me off he was still working at it.

Back from Vienna--this was one of those trips where despite nice weather and a beautiful city, I barely left the hotel. I at least had a little time in the afternoon to walk to the Stephansdom (where I lit a candle and said a prayer for Gretchen's mom even though I'm not Catholic...I hope I didn't violate some sort of Catholic law in doing that) and to the Albertina, where I quickly browsed exhibitions on Pop-Art and Rembrandt.

The real fun was when I arrived on Wednesday. As is so often the case, I had procrastinated and not finished my speech for Thursday AM. Luckily I got on a roll at the airport and on the plane and got a bunch of it cranked out on my laptop. So far, so good. Then I got to my hotel and tried to plug my laptop in but discovered that Austria uses 2-pronged plugs and my laptop has three prongs. I, being an idiot, had consciously left my plug adapter in Basel because I didn't want to take up more space and besides, Austria and Switzerland have to use the same plugs, right? So I figured I could just go down to the business center and finish it up there, only to discover that my laptop doesn't have a floppy disk drive--which, being an idiot, I hadn't actually checked before leaving (I went out of my way to remember a floppy, so I don't know why I didn't actually look at my laptop first). So I decided to use battery power and dial in and email it to one of my personal accounts, only to find that I couldn't access either yahoo or hotmail, and it turns out my work email system was down. I was ready to break things at this point, but luckily I called one of our admins back in Basel, who could access an earlier draft of the speech from our network drive, and who suggested seeing if I could plug my laptop into a computer in the business center to print out what I'd done on the plane. (Are you following all this?) So, I was able to print out what I had worked on, then re-type it into the document our admin was able to send to my yahoo account. Re-typing was a hassle, but at least a nervous breakdown was narrowly averted, and a valuable lesson was learned (at least until the next time around...).

I'm off to Vienna (not the one in Virginia) for a speech tomorrow morning (which I of course still haven't written!), so things might be a little slow here for a day or two. Also, Gretchen's mom just got out of emergency surgery. It's incredibly fortunate that Gretchen was home to get her to the hospital. She's stable, but it's too early to say what's next. As always, prayers for Char and the family are greatly appreciated.

For those who have been praying for Gretchen's mom, she has had a not-so-good day today and Gretchen is taking her to the ER with a high fever. It's hopefully nothing serious and just one of those bumps in the road, but in any event your continued prayers and positive thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

In keeping with the juvenile theme of the last post, this weekend when I was leaving the supermarket parking lot the sign on the way out said "Gute fahrt!" Heh heh heh...

If you know me, then you know I'm all about culture. So last night I decided to host a cultural event (any correlation with Gretchen being out of town was purely coincidental): I rented "Jackass: The Movie" and invited some co-workers over. Of course we didn't watch it for fun...we had a long discussion about meta-analysis and archetypes, nihilism, "Jackass" as political allegory, the decline of American pop culture, things like that...

I'm not prone to waxing rhapsodic about birds, so this probably sounds strange, but I've found that one of the coolest things here are the storks. In the Alsace they are considered to bring good luck (not babies--this isn't some sort of hidden message!) and are something of a regional symbol--as you drive around you'll see these enormous nests on top of churches, chimneys, etc. (this is a nest we saw on top of a church in Eguisheim):



Anyway, they sometimes come over to Basel and eat in the field near our house, and I don't know that I've ever seen a more elegant, graceful bird. They have these enormous wingspans and just glide around so effortlessly--I've seen bald eagles in the wild, but I think I may actually find the storks more impressive. Who knew?

Greetings from Wisconsin! I arrived here on Wednesday night after a long, but stress-free, day of travel. Even though I miss my boys in Basel, I am very happy to be here with my Mom. She is showing true signs of improvement after 5 tough weeks of radiation. We went out to a Chinese restaurant for lunch today and never before have I seen anyone get so excited about sweet and sour chicken. You know the kind with lots of sweet-looking red sauce poured over the top of fried chicken pieces... If any of you have known someone who has gone through radiation, you will know that the treatments totally zap your appetite and your energy, not to mention your digestive system (literally), so eating a plate of cheap Chinese food was a true accomplishment for my Mom! As for myself, I am enjoying shopping at TJ Maxx and watching Matt and Katie in the morning.

A quick note about comments--a few of you have started to add your 2 cents, which makes us happy (come on people, let's make this interactive! You're our link to the world back home!). Anyway, when you click the "comments" button and a pop-up window comes up, at the bottom of the window is an advertisement for another blog. We have no control over what comes up; it's usually something innocuous, but occasionally is political or otherwise controversial. Please understand that we have no control over the ads that come up, and if they get problematic we would rather stop the comments than be associated with anything offensive (or at least more offensive than what we post on a daily basis)...

Stacy asked about nightlife in Basel. Truth be told, we've not really experienced the wild Basel night life. In part that's because we're lame--no surprise there, a wild night for us is two glasses of wine instead of one and watching MTV or Viva instead of CNN (party!)--and in part I think "wild" and "Basel" are mutually exclusive. There seem to be ads for late-night clubs, but quiet hours here typically start at 10pm--living in Switzerland is not unlike living in a huge dorm where every neighbor is an RA. There is an exceedingly cheesy-looking place downtown called the Don't Worry Be Happy Bar (no, I'm not making that up) that we'll have to check out. I just looked at one of the local papers and their "weekend-tipps" include hip-hop, funk, ambient jazz, and rock, so maybe I should take advantage of Gretchen's absence and explore the scene. (Some dance clubs in Basel.)

I've been a bit lax in my posting lately--with Gretchen back in the States, all of a sudden I have to cook, clean, walk the dog, and generally take care of myself. As you can imagine, this is utterly exhausting and leaves no time for anything so frivolous as blogging. I'm already missing my Ozzie-and-Harriet, 1950s, bring-home-the-bacon-and-let-my-wife-handle-the-domestic-chores life...

(But seriously, it's great that Gretchen can be home with her mom, who continues to feel better after finishing her cancer treatment.)

I've been witnessing a potentially ominous development in Basel lately: accordion players. If you've ever ridden public transportation in most major European cities, then you know that at some point an accordion player (or two) will board and start playing "O Sole Mio" or perhaps a peppy little Britney Spears number. For this "entertainment", you are then expected to pony up some spare change. In Paris, this almost--almost--charming (then again, in Paris almost everything is charming). We reached a new low with accordions in Brussels, where at two different restaurants we were seated outside and we had accordion players who would not stop playing. Because they played so long, they were extra persistent about chipping in.

Until now, this has been a decidedly non-Swiss phenomenon. We recently boarded a tram, however, and were shocked to find an accordion player. And now the past couple of days there has been an accordion player in front of the train station. What is happening? The music on the radio is bad enough here--do we now have to hear accordions as well? STOP THE INSANITY I BEG YOU!

(((OK, I feel better now...)))

Today's lunch menu includes Im Ofen gegarte Schweinshaxe--better known as roast knuckle of pork. I think I'll opt for the spaghetti with pesto. Also, one of the dessert options is Zwetschgenhefekuchen (say that 10 times quickly), which translates as "plum yeast cake." I'm sure it tastes better than it sounds...

I'm leaving in the morning to visit my Mom in Wisconsin. In the end, traveling from Basel to Madison should be a 20-hour adventure involving planes, trains and automobiles. Nonetheless, I'm very much looking forward to spending 10 days with my Mom, and I also feel very spoiled to be going back to the states so soon after arriving in Basel! I hardly feel like I've been here long enough to miss anything, but I've thought of three luxuries of home that I'll be happy to have upon arrival in Madison. First, a real Diet Coke. "Coca-Light", as they call it here, just doesn't cut it. I've even considered switching to Pepsi-Light. Second, a cheeseburger. I haven't had one since arriving, and as you know, I like my red meat. Hopefully my Mom and I will get a burger from the Oakcrest-- a good ol' Wisconsin tavern in our neighborhood. And last but not least, milk. I just realized that I haven't had a glass in 7 weeks-- this from a girl from the dairy state! It's not that I can't find milk here-- believe me, there are plenty of cows-- but it's that weird kind of milk that comes in a box and is kept on the shelf (unrefrigerated) until opened and I just haven't gotten up the courage to try it.

Although we have very limited options for English-speaking TV channels here in Basel, we do have four music video channels (MTV, MTV2, VIVA and VIVA2). Unlike MTV at home, they all play actual videos for most of the day. I will occasionally be providing updates of the most popular videos (based on a totally unscientific study of the videos I see most often). I'll be curious to know whether these same songs are popular in the US. Here's what's playing these days:

• Usher-"Yeah"


• Britney Spears-"Toxic"


• Black Eyed Peas-"Hey Mama"


• Jamelia-"Superstar"


• Sugababes-"In the Middle"


• Enrique Iglesias-"Not in Love"


• Baby Bash-"Suga Suga"


• LMC vs. U2-"Take Me to the Clouds Above"

I'm not sure if this works and you may need to register (free), but here are pictures from Brussels and Bruges.

For those who have never heard of Mannekin Pis, it is a famous statue in Brussels of, quite literally, a young boy peeing into a fountain. He is often dressed up (this is him on Friday):



So anyway, on Sunday we were walking home in a cold rainstorm near Mannekin Pis when we heard an approaching marching band. We stuck around to see a strange procession heading that way, so we tagged along. They all stopped at Mannekin Pis, playing music, singing, you name it. Despite the rain, we stuck around and were we ever in for a treat. Turns out the group was the "Friends of Mannekin Pis", who evidently are responsible for dressing him up. Next thing we knew, they had rigged up the fountain so that instead of peeing water, he was peeing Belgian cherry beer. They filled up cups straight from the source and handed them out. They only do this once a year, and we just happened to be there to drink from the source. It gives new meaning to the expression "this beer tastes like..." (oh, never mind). Anyway, here it is:

So far, with the exception of some timely comments from Stacy (a blog veteran), the comment feature has gone over about as well as Ted Nugent at a PETA convention. Maybe the blog doesn't inspire commentary, but I choose to believe it's a learning curve issue. Anyway, here's the deal--to post a comment you don't need to put your real name (or any name at all--it will be anonymous) and you don't need to post your email address or an URL. Just make a comment and click "OK". OK?

Gretchen invented a new game this weekend: "Gay or Just European?" In part because we are always on the lookout for when certain gay-friends-who-shall-remain-nameless hopefully come to visit, we have often found ourselves wondering about certain men we encounter (waiters, salesmen, etc.). It seems that many of the men here have a certain style, a certain manner, a certain way of dressing and grooming--a certain je ne sais quoi, if you will--that in many parts of the U.S. might just be considered gay. To be bluntly stereotypical, this is especially true in French-speaking countries, although it was also the case in London, and is much less prevalent in Switzerland. Anyway, many are the times we've found ourselves having conversations like: "What do you think?" "Probably, but I dunno...maybe he's just European." (I can say this now that I sometimes wear funny European shoes and carry a coin pouch and have my hair styled by a Frenchman named Guy. Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Gretchen came up with shorthand for these conversations and now just says things like "SHALL WE PLAY A GAME?" (oh, wait--that's Joshua the computer from the cheesy-yet-classic 1980s Matthew Broderick/Ally Sheedy/Dabney Coleman film "WarGames", but you get the picture).

We're back from a fun weekend in Brussels, where we learned a few things:

• Even if the forecast for Brussels on Friday says it will be 68 degrees with 0% chance of rain all weekend, you would be wise to pack an umbrella, warm jacket, gloves, and scarf;


• French fries (or "frites") with mayonnaise taste a lot better than they sound;


• We really don't tend to like places that are overly touristy, and Bruges is the epitome of touristy, but despite the mobs of tourists it was utterly charming and beautiful;


• Brussels would benefit from the free dog-poop bag distribution program they have here in Basel--if we had a euro for every time one of us said "watch out!" while dodging canine (or human?) deposits, we could have paid for our trip;


• If we lived in Brussels, we would immediately gain 10 pounds each--not only are there a lot of excellent restaurants, but Belgian beer, chocolate, and waffles all lived up to their reputation;


• If Brussels is any indicator, unisex bathrooms are the wave of the future;


• There's purgatory, there's hell, and then there's Brussels Centraal train station; and


• If you have a chance to drink beer that has been...ummm...peed into a cup by Mannekin Pis, you should by all means partake (more on this later)...

We're getting set to head off to Brussels (at the crack of dawn, I might add), and woke up to some good news--it sounds like our house back in the States is finally rented. Yeah! We'll be blogging again on Monday--good weekend to all...

Could somebody please explain to me who decided it would be a good idea for some European pop star to record a remake of Barry Manilow's old hit "Mandy"? I just dropped Grady off at the kennel in Mumpf and heard this ridiculous song while driving along on the motorway (at an approximate speed of 85 mph, by the way). Then again, what can I expect from a station that calls itself "Radio Regnbogn" (translated to mean Radio Rainbow).

Baslers take conservation very seriously and their method of trash disposal is a perfect example of it. This is complex, so stick with me. The morning of trash day, and certainly not the night before, everybody puts their trash by the curb as you would in the US. However, there are no big trash cans and certainly no random objects intended for the garbage men. The only trash that will be picked up is whatever is put into official garbage bags called "Bebbisaggs". Bebbisaggs are not cheap. I bought a packet of ten small bags yesterday at the grocery store for the equivalent of $15. As a result, I find myself following the ways of the Baslers to do anything I can to minimize the amount of trash I put into a Bebbisagg. It becomes an obsession! I rip up all Kleenex boxes to make them as small as possible. All fruit and veggie remnants go to the compost pile in the back yard. While waiting for a tram, I rummage through my pockets old receipts or food wrappers so I can throw them out in the public garbage cans rather than at home in an expensive Bebbisagg. And of course, I recycle whenever possible. Plastic bottles get returned to the containers in front of every grocery store. Glass bottles (separated by color), aluminum cans, and batteries are taken to the big blue bins down the street (and througout every neighborhood). According to a sign on the glass recycling bins, they can be used only on workdays between 7:00 am and 5:00 pm. This is so you don't disturb the neighbors during quiet hours. Well, I think that's everything. To think that some people wondered what I would do with my time in Basel without a job?

Just to clear up any confusion, Kirk is totally exaggerating about his new haircut. And for the record, I really like it. Even if I did agree with him about his initial resemblance to Vanilla Ice. In fact, I like it so much that I may also visit Guy (Kirk's new stylist) for my next haircut to see what he can do for me. It may be expensive, but don't you think it's about time I got a real haircut rather than the $30 cut I've been getting for the past 10 years at Bubbles on Capitol Hill?

Lunch today was a classic case where having an English translation can be helpful. One of the main courses was émincé de foie de veau à la sauge. That sounded pretty good until I saw the English translation: finely sliced calf’s liver in sage gravy. Lasagna for me, thank you very much! It's amazing how something so unappealing can sound so good when it's written in French, while the opposite is sometimes true for German--something that doesn't sound terribly appealing (is it the ümlauts?) on a menu can actually be quite good. For example, last week we had a pasta called Kleine mit Fleisch gefüllte Teigtaschen an einer Kerbelsauce that sounded funny but tasted great.

I'm not sure if my haircut is more Vanilla Ice or Kid from Kid 'n Play...

Another fun headline today from one of the papers here: "Grossmama fährt Taxi". (This is a few pages after an ad that asks the eternal question: "zu dick?")

Today I got a haircut--the first in a couple of months, so I was getting shaggy--and it's a bit different from the usual. More...shape. So tonight at dinner I half-jokingly asked Gretchen if I looked like Vanilla Ice and she hesitated for a minute and said "well...kind of." She tried to backtrack but the damage was done.

OK, so once again we're looking for advice. We just got a last-minute cheap deal on Swiss to fly to Brussels for the weekend and don't know a lot about it (other than eating mussels, which I can't stand). We've heard good things about Bruges but don't know if it's worth a whole weekend. So, for those who have been: Brussels for the weekend with a day trip to Bruges, or Bruges for the weekend with a day in Brussels? (Geez, do we sound like Euro-snobs or what?) Let us know if you have any thoughts on the matter...

This morning I received an e-mail with this parody, then was scanning the headlines and came across this, and it was a little eerie how similar the two were--what do they say about truth being stranger than fiction?

I'm sort of intrigued by one of the headlines in today's paper: "Schweine-Ringerin ist schönste Frau der USA" (with accompanying picture of what appears to be Miss USA being crowned). While I don't speak German, I do know that Schweine means pig. Hmmm...

If there's humor to be found in a situation like Iraq, you can always count on The Onion.

The city street sweepers just came by. I mention this only because the Swiss take their street cleaning very seriously. After the street-sweeping machine goes by, two sweeper-men follow with brooms. Not just any brooms. They carry those old-fashioned straw brooms and sweep all along the curb, as well as on the sidewalks. This is presumably the same in every neighborhood throughout the city. And they do it at least once a week. One sunny day a few weeks ago, when I was downtown eating a sandwich on the steps outside one of the big museums, the sweeper-men were sweeping along the steps as I ate, even encouraging some of the people around me to throw their lunch trash on the ground so that they could include it in their sweep. Could someone talk to Tony Williams about instituting this profession in DC?

Continuing on the topic of trashy reality TV, I just watched an episode of "Newlyweds" on MTV. (The Jessica Simpson show, not the old Bob Eubanks game show, in case you were confused.) No matter how many times I've seen an episode of a bad MTV show I still get sucked in. Especially now that I'm in Switzerland and actually crave a bit of English-speaking TV each day. Earlier today I caught two back-to-back episodes of Real World Las Vegas! OK, so they're a few years behind, but regardless, I figure it's a good way to improve my German by following along with the subtitles. Don't tell my Mom, but I'm also learning all sorts of dirty German words from watching the Osbournes with subtitles. Other MTV shows in English include Rich Girls and Dismissed. I draw the line at Dismissed. Do they actually show that in the US? I think MTV Europe got all the reject Dismissed episodes that were too smutty for MTV America. Please don't think less of me just because I watch bad TV... believe me, if you were living in Europe and needed to fulfill your English-speaking TV fix, you too would choose Jessica Simpson over the CNN World live broadcast of John Ashcroft and Janet Reno testifying before the 9/11 Commission.

Because I know you care--FC Wil beat Grasshoppers to win the Swiss Cup (that would be soccer...or should I say fußball). I don't even know where Wil is, but it was evidently a big upset. (And if you think "Grasshoppers" is a wimpy name, one of the top Swiss teams is called "Young Boys". Insert your own joke here...)

A great way to start your work week (on a Tuesday, of course, so I really shouldn't complain) is to get out of the shower and remember too late that Gretchen had taken the towels to the laundry room and that you had forgotten to get a clean towel on your way to the shower, so you holler for Gretchen but she's out walking the dog (again, reason not to complain), so you have to run dripping wet and naked in our cold apartment to the linen closet to find a towel, praying that she didn't open all the blinds first thing this morning, which she often does (thankfully she hadn't). Apologies for any disturbing mental images this may cause--at least there are no pictures to post with this one...

For all you Hilton-sisters fans, you'll be happy to know that we'll soon have a version of "The Simple Life" in German. A couple days ago I "read" an article in the local free paper (to the extent I can read an article written in German) that announced that "Glamourgirls" Judith Kamps (daughter of bakery-millionaire Heiner Kamps) and "Ex-Bro'Sis-Sängerin" Indira will spend 2 months living on a farm with cameras following their every move. Judith is clearly anxious about the prospect of living on a farm: "The worst would be if I had to witness the birth of a cow". Can anyone tell me what an "Ex-Bro'Sis-Sängerin" is? I don't think I can translate that one.

I was very happy to finally get my "Carte de légitimation" a few days ago. I'm not sure exactly what it means, but it looks like an ID card and I've been told that in Switzerland it's better than a passport, especially when crossing borders and being questioned by Swiss border guards as to why we have American plates on our car (see previous postings for more information). Kirk and I each have one because of Kirk's employment here in Basel. I like that fact that it's all written in French, even though the majority of Swiss speak German. I guess French is the official diplomatic language. But my favorite thing about my new "Carte de légitimation" is the section titled "Titre/Fonction". According to this new ID card, my function is "spouse of Kirk". Ahh yes... to be a spouse...

For those who know my brother Derek and want to see pictures of baby Lemuel, they're here.

This is a test--I'm going to try to post an action shot of Gretchen and Grady from JFK Airport just before boarding the flight to Switzerland, as well as a picture of our house in Basel (we live on the ground floor)...

We're trying to put pictures online for those who are interested. You may have to register (it's free), but here are pictures from the Alsace, Freiburg, the Black Forest, and miscellaneous Basel and moving photos. It may even be possible to start posting them directly on the blog at some point.

This afternoon (Ostermontag, yet another holiday) we went for a drive in the southern Alsace region of France just outside of Basel called the Sundgau (or as little signposts everywhere said, "Pays de Carpe Frite"--place of the fried carp). Unlike other parts of the Alsace we've visited, the Sundgau is not a wine region (they evidently settled for the fried carp as a consolation prize). Instead we hiked around the ruins of an old castle and drove along windy roads through forests and a bunch of picturesque small towns. Not a bad way to kill an afternoon when nothing in town is open.

Gretchen enjoyed this Sunday's Doonesbury, for reasons that will probably be obvious...

Yesterday we decided to drive to France. After getting lost and accidentally ending up at the Zoll (customs) for trucks and being told by a severe Swiss woman to turn around, we eventually found the motorway. We drove about 45 minutes up to Colmar, a decent-sized city with a pretty historic center in the Alsace. We spent a couple of hours walking around, freezing our butts off, and eating hearty Alsatian cuisine (e.g., I had ham and potatoes drowned in the stinky local Munster cheese). Then we drove to a nearby wine village called Eguisheim that had been recommended by friends. They knew of a vintner who spoke English, so we went and had an excellent and informative tasting (we were the only ones there), and left with a few bottles of wine. All that and back home in time for dinner--best of all, we were waved right through the border crossing into Switzerland and didn't have to play 20 questions with the border guards for once...

For those of the Christian persuasion, happy Easter (or as they say here, Frohe Ostern). For those of the Jewish persuasion, happy Passover (even though it already started). And of course a very happy Barbershop Quartet Day and, for those from Uganda, happy Liberation Day. For those who work, a belated happy Workplace Napping Day (why did no one tell me about this?). For everyone else, have a nice, relaxing Sunday that is hopefully not as cold, grey, damp, and raw as it is here in Basel...

From Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe: "You know you are entering the German-speaking part of Switzerland because all the towns have names that sound like someone talking with his mouth full of bread: Thun, Leuk, Bülach, Plaffeien, Flims, Gstaad, Pfäffikon, Linthal, Thusis, Fluelin, Thalwil."

I like this picture of my brother Derek, his new baby Lemuel, and their dog, Mike:

I think they've passed a law in Switzerland that Usher's "Yeah!" video (featuring Lil' Jon and Ludacris) must be played at least once every 15 minutes.

Some folks have suggested enabling comments, and I think we may have just figured out a way to do that. Try it and let us know what you think!

One of the things I love the most about Basel (and Switzerland in general) is their love of dogs. It seems no matter where we go we see dogs-- they ride the trams (for half-price, I might add), they go into stores and restaurants, and many walk off leash around the city (with their owners in sight). As you might imagine, we're not able to do these kinds of things with our neurotic, yet lovable, Grady. The city even provides dog poop bags ("Hundekotsackchen") in these little green dispensers conveniently posted throughout the city. I had been told (by other Americans who previously lived here with dogs) that after using the little poop bags you could just set them along the curb and the city cleaner-men would pick them up. This has been the most exciting thing about walking Grady! You mean I can just drop his poop bag wherever I am? But wait... the other day we got something in the mail from the city vet office (or something like that) with the bill for Grady's dog license, along with a flyer showing a photo of an offical poop bag in the curb that said "Das muss nicht sein!", which I have been told means "This is not right!". Good thing the little green dispensers are attached to little garbage cans. My days of fun are over.

This man's picture appeared in the local paper the other day (he's a political figure of some sort)--proof positive that eyebrow waxing has not yet made inroads here, at least with conservative male Swiss politicians.

For my first posting, I'm asking for some advice. Our oven has died! Well, the gas still pumps out when we try to start it (how we start the oven is a whole other story...), but the light doesn't light. I don't know if that makes sense, but basically we have filled our kitchen with really stinky gas many times over the past 36 hours trying to light it, and we've finally given up. Of course, we reached this conclusion only after I completed a major shopping trip to Géant yesterday (the "giant" grocery store in France) to stock up since we're having friends over for Easter brunch. Now we can't even call the oven repairman until Tuesday (because it's an official holiday weekend), and I have to come up with ideas for Easter brunch that do not include an oven. Who has some creative solutions? Please send us your suggestions.

Today is "Karfreitag" in Switzerland (or, as our landlord put it, "a day when the children have a holiday and the streets are quiet") (or, as Gretchen put it semi-sarcastically--to me, not to her--"...not to mention the day when our Lord was crucified"). So, happy Karfreitag to all. We're going to check out the Anglican Church in town this morning.

We are allowed to drive with our Virginia tags for a year, but we're going to have to get Basel plates sooner. When we drive around, people look at us like we have leprosy or a third eyeball in the middle of our foreheads or something. (The Swiss propensity for staring doesn't help matters.) Last night after dinner a family walked past and the mother started pointing at our license plates and everyone in the family started laughing. We pull up to border crossings and you can see the border guards start to salivate and we're inevitably asked to pull over and produce documents of various sorts. Today Gretchen was given a hard time when she drove into France because she didn't have a certain customs form that we didn't know we were supposed to have, plus she heard people in the parking lot of the store making comments in none-too-friendly terms about Virginia. It's like we have a big sign that says "AUSLÄNDER!" (the German word for foreigner), or worse (at least here in Europe), "AMERIKANER!". Granted, we are Ausländers and Amerikaners, but that doesn't make it any less unnerving...

One of the interesting contrasts between the U.S. and Switzerland (and much of Europe for that matter) is the role of religion. I think the U.S. is much more religious, but perhaps because of the Constitution and the general acceptance (by some, at least) of a separation between church and state, religious holidays are seldom acknowledged in the U.S. Here, my sense is that people are not necessarily very religious, but the church historically played a large role in affairs, so religious holidays are observed even though people are largely secular. This comes up because both tomorrow (Good Friday) and Monday (Easter Monday) are official holidays here, and they don't give them secular-sounding names like "spring holiday" or anything like that. Meanwhile, back home we never had those days off. I'm not sure what any of this means...

Today's words that make me laugh for some reason: "umbegung" (pronounced OOM-ga-boong), which basically refers to a surrounding area (e.g., the suburbs of Basel); and a local institution, the "Puppenhausmuseum" (pronounced POOP-in-house), which seems to be a museum of dolls and stuffed animals.

I'm looking out my window and in one direction there are blue skies and in the other direction looks as dark as night. Meanwhile, it appears to be simultaneously raining and snowing. Psycho weather. (Qu'est-ce que c'est.)

Grady seems to have liked his kennel--or should I say his pension--in Mumpf.

At the risk of being political (since we live in Old Europe now, we can more actively voice our skepticism about U.S. policy), this article from the Economist nicely summarizes a lot of the legitimate complaints about the Bush administration, even if it sort of gives him the benefit of the doubt at the end.

This is the last week of radiation treatment for Gretchen's mom, Char. Some days have certainly been worse than others, but overall she has done really well and is in very good spirits. Since this is the last week, they're going to really crank up the intensity of the radiation. So, for those who have been praying, please continue to pray this week not only that she will beat her cancer, but also that she will bounce back quickly from the treatment itself.

One of the lunch options today is called "smøre brød". It's only an assortment of open-faced sandwiches, but it might also be a good name for a band...

When we were out to dinner our last night in London, we really liked the music that was playing. Our waiter told us the band was called Athlete. By good fortune, we walked past a Tower Records on our way back to the hotel, so we stopped in and picked up their album, Vehicles & Animals. It's probably not available in the U.S., but worth picking up if you happen to see it and like bands like Coldplay.

Whatever happened to Spring? Flowers are blooming, leaves are bursting from tree branches, birds are singing, it stays light much later...and yet every day is nothing but chilly and rain, rain, rain. Blah.

The Padres get their season off to a great start--World Series, here we come!

At last! We have internet access at home! Gretchen can start doing email (and blogging)! Hallelujah!

One of the things that was great about London is that it gave us a little taste of city life, which you don't get very often in Basel. Saturday night, we had a real city experience. We were taking the Tube back to our hotel, and when we got on the train there was a woman who was loud and agitated, yelling obscenities, etc., (in other words, nothing out of the ordinary). At the next stop, the woman--let's call her agitated woman #1--got out of her seat, charged across the car, and spat on a man (and several people seated near him) who had until that point been sitting quietly--hence, we'll call him quiet man--before returning to her seat. All of a sudden quiet man became not-so-quiet man--he got up out of his seat and charged over to agitated woman #1, yelling about how he would beat her, etc. At this point it became apparent that there had been an altercation of some point and that the screaming woman, while perhaps a bit unstable, perhaps had good reason to be agitated (I thought it looked like her mouth was bleeding, but Gretchen wasn't sure). Meanwhile, everyone on the train--including us--reacted with typical urban (and British) stoicism: just look away and pretend nothing is happening (the man across from us, who had been hit with flying spittle, finally brushed the spittle off his coat with as much dignity as he could muster). At the next stop agitated woman #1 got off, screaming back at not-so-quiet man something about how he was lucky she didn't file charges, etc. So just when we thought things were going to calm down, the woman across from us--we'll call her agitated woman #2, although she did not appear to have any connection to agitated woman #1) stood up and started screaming at not-so-quiet man that he had no right to do what he did to agitated woman #1 (it sounded like references to beating her or kicking her in the face, but she had a thick Caribbean patois so it was hard to understand), and that she could be a witness against him. Meanwhile, not-so-quiet man--also in a thick patois--started yelling back repeatedly that he would stop the train and beat agitated woman #2. The screaming between the two went back and forth for some time, again with everyone trying to pretend it wasn't happening (and with Gretchen plotting our exit from the car). It was the kind of thing where, had we been in the States, it wouldn't have been surprising if someone would have pulled a gun. Fortunately we were in a less well-armed country, and there were enough people between agitated woman #2 and not-so-quiet man that it never got beyond words. Finally we got to our stop and agitated woman #2 also got off, still yelling at not-so-quiet man, who continued to yell that he would beat her. Just another night in the big city, I suppose.

(Side note: we had a little comic relief amid the tension--while screaming at quiet man, agitated woman #2 was holding a stuffed yellow duck in one of her hands. At one point she dropped it and, mid-tirade, Gretchen tapped her on the shoulder and was like "excuse me, miss, you dropped your duck." Well, it was funny to us at the time, anyway...)

Alas, Duke's season came to a bitter end on Saturday night (I'm glad I missed it).

...which can only mean one thing--Go Padres (strange new logo and all)! Play ball!

When we got back to Basel this morning, we put our bags in the back of a cab and I started to reach up to close the hatchback when the woman (who we at first thought was a man) all of a sudden yelled "NEIN!!!" at the top of her lungs whilst simultaneously giving me the "talk to the hand" gesture in my face. I very slowly stepped away from the car and let her close it. And to think people don't commonly tip here...

Saturday we got up and were going to get half-price theatre tickets, but decided instead to see if there were any tickets available for the matinee performance of The Lion King. Success! Since we had a few hours to kill, we ran over to the Hayward Gallery on the South Bank to see a Roy Lichtenstein exhibit, which was quite interesting. Then, on to the show. I enjoyed it very much, and Gretchen absolutely loved it. The sets/costumes defied description, although some of the music was cheesy beyond belief. In any event, a worthwhile experience. After more shopping and more eating, we were ready to go home.

Addendum to Friday--while we were primarily trying to eat Asian food and avoid the meat-and-potatoes fare that we regularly get in Basel, this was a day for British cuisine: for a mid-morning snack we each had a pasty (which has nothing to do with gentlemen's clubs), then for lunch Gretchen had a "rump and stilton pie".

The good thing about having such a long day on Thursday is that we finished what was supposed to be a two-day meeting in one--meaning on Friday I had a free day in London (don't you hate it when that happens?). We decided to head out of town to someplace neither of us had been before--Windsor Castle (home of the Queen and all that). We took a guided tour, which was quite interesting but also a bit mind-numbing trying to keep track of which King/Queen did what and when. I get the sense that British royalty is sort of like the American electoral college--if you don't grow up with it, you'll never really understand it. (Maybe that's a bad example...I grew up with the electoral college and I'm still not sure I understand it. But I digress. (Another digression--when we got back to German-speaking Basel today, Gretchen pronounced it "Vindsor" Castle.) After a quick walk across the Thames to Eton for lunch, we took the train back into London to do some shopping--along with every other Londoner on a sunny afternoon--and then met Gretchen's friends Kelly and Phil for Malaysian food at their place in Camden/Kentish Town.

Thursday was a work day for me--out at 8:00am, back at 10:00pm. Gretchen's day was about as long, but much more fun. She spent the day shopping, walking, and eating with her friend Suzanne (wife of a co-worker), then went to see Stones in His Pockets (a comedy/drama playing in the West End).

Just back from London--what a great city. Arrived on Wednesday afternoon to sunshine--the only other time we were in London together was in December, with typical London gray and rainy weather. After spending some time walking around Green Park and St. James's Park, we accomplished our primary goal for the weekend--eating good Asian food. We went to The Red Fort in Soho for good, upscale Indian food. Yum!