Stateside

Against all odds, I made it back to Rhode Island. The final days in Essen were chaotic and stressful. Despite all my efforts to keep my life lean while I was on sabbatical, stuff accumulated. I jettisoned most of my clothing as I packed, but I had a year's worth of paintings to transport, a bicycle, books and plenty of odds and ends. When I saw it all together, loaded into a friend's Citroën Berlino, it became very obvious that my decision to rent a "compact" car at JFK to haul it all to Rhode Island was absurd. Still, we checked the bags the evening before our flight without real difficulty, turned over the Wohnung the next morning to our landlady, got a ride to the airport from Thore and his mom, and I crossed my fingers things would work out when we arrived.

The box I packed my bike in got wet on the plane and and was a damp rag, barely holding together when we arrived in New York. I loaded the mountain of suitcases onto a cart and laid the bike carefully across the top for the trip from baggage claim to ground transportation. Presumably the mysteries of plate tectonics were responsible for the slide that brought the bike and all supporting cases to the floor of the main entrance hall. Aftershocks were to follow, but I didn't know that as I built the tower up again.

At the car rental agency, as I waited in line, I heard one of the agents tell a prospective customer without a reservation, "Sorry, if you have no reservation, we can't help you. We're out of cars." I had been expecting to be able to upgrade my own reservation to a "full size" vehicle, or maybe an eighteen wheeler. Sweat dripped from my brow as I watched the woman helping me complete the paperwork. Plan "A" was removing my shoe laces and using them to lash the bike to the roof. There was no plan "B." Then the woman behind the counter looked up at me and asked, "We don't have a compact car available at this time. Would you accept a Jeep Liberty instead?" Always cautious, I asked, "Will there be any additional charge?" Nope. No additional charge. I agreed to accept the Jeep and when we reached the Throgs Neck Bridge we stopped for a short victory dance.

I could never have gotten it all done without help from lots of friends. Many thanks to all of you, and a special thank you to Thore who came by on the last full day to help with packing. He was a blur of activity all morning, but finally settled down for a rest long after his nap time had come and gone.





Two weeks here and then it's on to Utah and yet more culture shock.

Abbau

Hard to believe, but just eleven months ago I was busy building work tables for my studio. Now those tables, a miracle of vernacular furniture design, are a real problem. I don't know what to do with them as I pack up for the return trip to Utah. At one point, I had this idea that I would be able to easily sell most of my stuff before I left. It turns out my thinking was overly optimistic. I've listed a couple of things on craigslist.de but the only responses came from Lagos, Nigeria and the potential buyer requested that I include a couple of new Toshiba laptop computers in the shipment.

I'm giving a different site a try now: www.markt.de Let's cross our fingers that I get some action there. Otherwise my beautiful tables will wind up in the Sperrmüll.

100,000 Thing Challenge

I first heard about Dave Bruno's 100 Thing Challenge, through an article in the Süddeutschezeitung. I've been thinking about it a lot during the past three weeks as we pack up the house and fill the garage. We've got way too much stuff. Now that the house is mostly empty, it looks great. And I've always been outraged by the rampant consumerism that characterizes America. But I've come to the conclusion that the challenge is an overreaction and counterproductive. I've looked at the list and thought about it as I've chosen the things I'll be taking with me to Germany. It may work for a person who has few interests in life, but when I start to think about the tools I'll need, "100 Things" just doesn't cut it. I've got 100 brushes I'm bringing alone. I notice that there is an entry for bicycle on the list, but how about, helmet, gloves, pump, patch kit, lubricant, screwdriver? These seem to me like absolute minimal accessories for a responsible cyclist.

I hope I don't sound like I'm anti-Dave. I applaud the spirit of the challenge and wish him the best of luck. If he's responsible for even one cyclist throwing away a pair of those silly black lycra pants, I'll be delighted. But having gotten my house packed up and reducing my personal belongings to what I can carry on one of the increasingly stingy flights to Europe, I'm ready to say it out loud: 100 things really isn't enough.

We sealed the deal on a Wohnung this morning. Rike found us a fabulous place in Rüttenscheid. We've got three weeks still in Rhode Island before we arrive in Essen, but we're looking forward to exploring our new neighborhood when we arrive.

Eulen nach Athen

So, with only 12 days to go and nearly everything packed, this is what I found when I arrived on campus this afternoon. It looks as though someone in the Campus Planning office was cleaning and organizing on Friday and just threw the old stuff out the back door. I need these boxes like a hole in the head, but they're so beautiful: clean, empty Xerox™ copy paper boxes, with lids! I filled my van and took some finely proportioned standard brown cardboard ones as well.

Seven Weeks to Pack

I scored a motherload of boxes this week in the recycling bin at the Chase Fine Arts Center. They came from the computer lab, where they apparently just upgraded their equipment with several dozen iMacs. So our stored belongings are going to look like a burglar's dream score. Now we just have to fill the boxes and get them into the garage.