It's About Time by Professor X

Last night I had a dream. The only part I remember is this: I was talking on the phone to one of my dearest friends. "I have something to tell you," he said, "but don't worry. Everything's OK."

"What?" I asked.

In a very calm and conversational voice he said: "I went to the doctor. He told me I have cancer and I'll be dead in six months."

Silence. Then I said: "Tell me you're kidding."

"No. But like I said," he went on, "everything's OK."

---

Whenever I've tried to predict "the" future, I got it wrong. (I put "the" in quotes because, what? There's only one future? Fnord!)

There's a thing called probability and it does most of the future-predicting work for us, even when we don't know the odds. For instance, the sun will probably rise tomorrow, for a number of reasons. I can't calculate the odds of it not rising, but based on past performance and lack of any data suggesting the sun is about to fizzle out, it seems pretty certain that it'll happen.

If you toss a non-rigged coin, the odds are almost 50-50 that one or the other side will land upright. Almost 50-50 because there's a chance, however slim, that the coin will land on edge. Toss two dice and it's certain you'll end up with a number between 2 and 12, and some of those numbers are much more likely to come up than others---and the odds are known, due to the simplicity of the task. There are only so many possible outcomes.

But when you get into stuff like:  will my son become a doctor, or is my soulmate out there somewhere, or will tough Army men who are trained to face life and death fighting under very arduous conditions suddenly fall apart like hormonal teenie-boppers if they have to serve with gay people, things get tricky. There are simply too many variables. So who knows? Answer: nobody. Including you and me. So it doesn't pay to worry about it. See what happens.

I haven't spent too much time dwelling on the past, but I have a history of dwelling on possible futures. Lately, though, that's happening less and less. I'm trying to tone it down. Sure, I have plans---clean the garage, paint the spare bedroom, stuff like that. Can I predict the outcome of my goals? No. Too many variables, including possible incapacitation or death or a changing of the alleged mind on the part of your humble blogger.

The present moment seems more and more interesting to me. (I say "the" present moment even though I have the idea there's no such thing----it's like looking at the Danube and talking about "the" water droplet.) And watching time flow by, like watching a river, can be kind of interesting. Sometimes it's fun to just wait and see what happens. It's fun doing this with your creative endeavors, too---do them anonymously and then watch the fun.

Take a look at the young Austrian schoolgirl, above. Do you think she could have imagined all the interesting and wonderful things that later happened to her? She could imagine things just as fascinating----but how many of them came to pass? And how many of the things she experienced did she first imagine?

Nobody really knows, but when the photo above was taken I bet she never imagined she'd grow up to be dealing with a strange American who walks around half the time with smoke in his skull. Nor could the strange American imagine the grown-up Austrian schoolgirl until about, oh, seven years ago.

You just never know what a future will bring, but sometimes it's really fascinating and fun when it happens.

And then you need to savor the ever-moving moments.

Goodbye, Vienna

It's Monday and my plane doesn't leave until very damned early Wednesday, but this is my last real day of running around in Vienna. Tomorrow it's packing, a few errands for the house, then to B's parents house to spend the night...they live close to the airport, and Heinrich drive me to the airport at 5:30 AM (gulp!)

B left for France this morning, early. Work. So we said our goodbyes at the house. I'm very happy we had nine good weeks, the most time we've been able to spend with each other during our more than seven years together. She drove to the subway station, and I drove her car back. A first for me----driving in Vienna. Even though it was less than a kilometer.

About 11 I took a bus to nearby Grinzing, once a village but now part of greater Vienna. I was just following my nose, with nothing definite in mind. The day was sunny, blue skies, no clouds, no wind, but it was only about 70 F. Still, it reminded me of one of those perfect days you sometimes get in San Francisco. Everywhere I looked people were sitting outside----though the cafes on the shady side of the street weren't doing a lot of outdoor business.

I had lunch on a patio somewhere----a burrito, of all things. First a clear noodle soup, though---more traditionally Austrian. The burrito was good but let me make a deal with Vienna: you stay away from Mexican food, and we'll stay away from strudels and schnitzels, OK?

I walked on. The first tram stop I came to, I took it. At the end stop I got out and started walking. I was in the 18th district, a rich area, with lots of big houses. But I stayed on the main streets, away from the mansions, and when I spotted a flight of stairs leading to what I thought was a park, I climbed them. On the way, I met a friendly cat. I stopped, took pictures, petted him. He followed me up the stairs eventually and when I sat down on a bench across from a very beautiful and quiet cemetery, he joined me. I petted him until he got bored and sauntered off into the cemetery.

My new friend on the stairs to the cemetery.

He told me: Look me up next time you're in Vienna.

I left the cat and strolled through the quiet 18th district. I came to another streetcar, the 9, so I took it to the end station at Westbahnhof. There's a cafe near there called Cafe Westend, and I thought I'd sit on the sidewalk, drink a coffee, and catch some sun. But the sidewalk tables were shaded with a tarp, so I caught the subway, rode it a few stops, and walked to Cafe Weimar. Sat outside, the sun at my back, sipping a small beer and writing. 

Walked around some more, caught another tram to its end stop, and then while walking around I came upon a real bargain: a bookstore with discount bins on the sidewalk, where I found a 10-CD collection of Charlie Parker tunes, and another 10-CD collection of Miles Davis tunes, for just €9.99 each (about $13.) Bought 'em, and I'm listening to Miles Davis right now while drinking a glass of wine. Not. Too. Shabby.

Took the D tram home. This is it, Vienna, I thought. See you next time. I'll be here another day but it'll be a sad one; I never like leaving but that's how it's been for us: I leave Vienna, B leaves OKC. Maybe someday that'll stop and neither of us will have to leave...

But for now, here in Vienna, the sun is going down earlier and earlier and it hasn't really been warm, not Oklahoma-in-Autumn warm. Summer came and went too quickly in Vienna this year; everyone feels kind of cheated. Not me. I've got another summer waiting for me in Oklahoma.

Got home, called B in France, then made myself a rice / sautéed veggie dish. And a homemade sauce: Sambal Oelek, soy sauce, honey, and a bit of lemon juice. Pour that over the rice / veggie mixutre and enjoy.

A door leading to a door. Not sure where the second door leads. 

Maybe back to Oklahoma. Such are the mysteries of our universe.

Saturday Bike Ride Along the Danube

It's been cool here, like autumn. A few days of rain, some cloudy days with no rain, and a few days with some sun. Yesterday was one of the sunny ones, so we got the bikes out for a final ride before I leave.

I guess the temperature was in the low 70s...a t-shirt with a long sleeve shirt was enough to keep me comfortable. No jacket required.

Back in the OKC, I don't ride a bike, but I want to change that. I like the relative silence of cycling---no noisy stereo, as in a car, no mechanical noise from your bike...just the sound of the breeze in your ears.

We went north on the Danube Island, then crossed the bridge east back onto the mainland and along the river. The usual quiet----other cyclists, roller bladers, joggers, walkers, people with their dogs. Along the side of the path, people on blankets...reading, writing, having a picnic or a quiet conversation. We even saw a couple of guys along a wooded bank making a small camp fire from wood they found.

After about an hour we came to a little snack stand, so we bought some apple juice and decided to take a rest. I noticed an old motorcycle parked nearby, and the guy was standing at the counter with us, so I asked him how old the bike was.

"60 years old," he said. He went on to explain the motorcycle had belonged to his father, and though it was in great shape, the paint scheme wasn't original. So, not a perfect restoration, but still, a clean machine. B took pics:

Puch 250

Reverse side of the time machine.

Ferry across the Danube. It goes back and forth every ten minutes or so. It's self powered but the ferry is held in position with the help of a cable that stretches from the stern to another cable high above the river; I guess the ferry doesn't have to spend too much energy fighting the current, that way.

Sitting on the grassy bank in the sun, looking the opposite direction from the ferry.

A good place to enjoy a drink after a bike ride along the Danube.

I've said it before, but Vienna is a town where a poor person has a lot of no-cost things to do, both in town and just out of town. You can take interesting hikes through the city, or take public transportation to the Vienna Woods and enjoy a hike/picnic/whatever in nature, or ride a bicycle onto the Danube Island for some people watching or a cookout or some quiet time staring at the clouds. There are a lot of place to get a rich person's view of the landscape, without having to be rich. Somebody in the past thought it would be a good idea to provide public space for fun activities, and I thank them.

----

We returned the bikes to B's parents house, where they'll undoubtedly rest through fall and winter. No more riding this year, probably...

B's parents gave me a gift to take home. There's a drink called Underberg, which is a digestive liquor made from a bunch of herbs combined in a secret way. The bottles are tiny and Underberg made a leather belt, rather like a bandoleer, with which the dedicated drinker can store the bottles like shotgun shells in an ammo belt. It was a nice gift. Let's see how many of the bottles I can get through security. They're the right size, just 20ml, but the sum total of all your liquids can't be bigger than a 1-quart sandwich bag. 

----

On the way home, we stopped in the vineyards for a glass of wine at the Sirbu, one of the Heurigen up here.

The view from our table---vine covered tables with the lights of Vienna in the distance.

Rick Steves tells you about the Heurigen

And, unknown to me until now, Rick likes The Herb. Another reason to respect Mr. Steves.

We drove home, where B graciously prepared a nice supper---mashed potatoes with truffle oil, Swedish meatballs, and a cucumber-radish salad----the cukes from her own garden. Delicious with a glass of white wine...

Mr. Natural

This afternoon we drove out to B's parents place, where she has a little garden spot in the backyard. About six by six, 36 square feet. A few tomato plants, some strawberries, an eggplant, a cucumber. Pepper plants, too, but they didn't give much this year.

The tomatoes gave, though, and still are. We pruned them back, harvested about 4 big ones and a lot of little yellow cherry tomatoes, and planted four new strawberry plants. I picked up about 20 fat garden slugs and tossed them over the fence into the alley. They may crawl back, or they may get squished. I'll let the God of the Slugs decide these matters.

Afterwards, B's mom made grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for us and we watched slides of the family's vacation to Italy in 1967. I saw some of the places I knew, and was surprised at how much 43 years of change can affect a place, even Italy, which we mistakenly tend to think of as timeless.

----

I've been following Lloyd Kahn's blog for a few years now, and have purchased three of his excellent books. Lloyd is the kind of guy I want to be if I ever grow up. 75 years old, lots of energy, rides a damned skateboard (!) and is sharp as a tack.

Below, a short film (actually shot on 16mm film!) some students did about Lloyd, and the ultra-cool house he built north of San Francisco. Lloyd really is one of my heroes, and I hope I get to meet him some day.

SHELTER from jason sussberg on Vimeo.

Arche Noah / Kittenberger Gardens

Another drive Tuesday, about an hour outside of Vienna, to Arche Noah.

It means "Noah's Ark" and they specialize in preserving heirloom seeds, biodiversity, and organic gardening / education. It was the most impressive collection of vegetable and herb gardens I've ever seen. There's a shop where you can buy all kinds of gardening books, heirloom seeds, or plants. B bought some strawberry plants.

The place is set in a tiny village overlooking a beautiful valley (where the next village is---easy to see from the gardens.) There's a cool old building on the grounds, which originally was probably used for storing stuff when this area was part of the castle garden (there's a castle right across the street, as opposed to sitting high on a hill like most other castles in Austria.)

Part of the garden at Arche Noah.

Chilies! They had many varieties, including habaneros.
Surprising, because I thought chilies liked hot dry climates.

Well planned gardens, with plenty of space to walk between them,

and plenty of space in the gardens themselves to get at the veggies.

Cool old building on the grounds---used as a classroom / meeting place.

Interior. Note exposed woodbeam roof.

A smaller version of this building would make a great living space.

The gourd garden. 

Each garden had informative plaques telling about the plants, and each plant variety was identified.

I like the way they did these tomatoes. Each vine was supported by twine,
tied to the ground with a stake, then twisted loosely around the vine and tied at the top to a wire.

Note also the plants aren't really bushy with leaves---more pruning = more fruit? Dunno.

Bell peppers.

How'd you like to have this in your back yard?

There were orchards behind the house---apple trees, plums, etc., all bearing fruit. There was also an interesting bee hive. Arche Noah cut part of an old tree trunk in half lengthwise, then covered the cut with a Plexiglas window. Then they put a door over that, to keep the hive dark inside. You could open the door and look at the bees through the Plexiglas, working inside. There was a warning posted inside the door about showing the bees "respekt," which is a good idea if you don't want your ass stung off. I looked inside for a few minutes and the bees ignored me. I kept my movements slow and easy and didn't make loud noises. Respekt.

----

We drove to the next village to take a look at the Kittenberger Gardens. This is essentially a display of more than 20 back yards, all done in different styles to show you what kind of landscaping / gardening options are possible. There was some great stuff there and I got a lot of ideas.

A cozy Japanese garden.

A view of the village from one of the many "back yards."

A little backyard house with benches and table. Made from an old wine barrel.

Creative use of a framed-in woodpile as a yard divider.

Rooftop garden on a patio building in one of the "back yards."

A "fire art garden." The "matches" were purely decorative but there were steel fireplaces.
I think it would be neat to light three or four fires at night in these fireplaces, grab a chair, and watch the fire.

 Pendulum House. It's suspended about six inches off the ground.
They explain that when you step inside, you're kind of independent of the rotation of the earth.

Which I more or less feel more or less all the time, anyhow. Neat sensation, though.

The idea here is, a wall covered with these planters helps keep the house cooler, while giving the plants a place to thrive (southern exposure) and providing beauty / edible stuff. Smart, I think.

Yard art. Painted and stacked wooden chairs.

Interior of a space made of living willow trees, planted in a circle and woven together.
A pit in the floor holds aromatic evergreen branches, which are kept fresh by a drip system.
You lay in the hammock, hear the wind blow through the branches, and smell the evergreens. Nice!

Exterior of the willow house.

Fire pit made of old plate steel.

A pond full of carp. Nice deck, nice view.

Nice (expensive) grill. A competent welder could custom-make an approximation of this for about 1/4 of the price. I like the curved arm the pot is hanging from, allowing you to position it just where it needs to be for proper cooking of the yummy goodies within. See pic below for closeup.

The grills adjust up or down over the firebox, and you can hang a pot over the whole works to keep the beans warm, or whatever. The firebox needn't be as fancy as this one; a simple barrel or box would do.

I guess I'm getting to be an old fucker, with all this interest in gardening and yard art and all that shit. Next thing you know, I'll subscribe to cable so I can watch Home & Garden TV, and B and I'll be going to the fucking Home Depot every week to buy shit we don't need so we can "fix up" whatever it is about my shack that needs fixing.

Or maybe it's a backlash against the rush of technology we've all been riding through for 35+ years----a desire to watch things move slowly, instead of at lightning speed...like seeds to seedlings to plants to vegetables to harvest to eating / preserving. 

Maybe it's the idea that creativity doesn't have to involve time spent on a computer with Autocad or Photoshop or Garageband or Final Cut Pro, all the while viewing insipid "Tweets" or checking that stupid fucking Facebook every five seconds----sawing and gluing lumber, or hammering / welding steel, or re-purposing old junk into "art" can equally satisfy your creative urges.

Sunday: Thayatal National Park

About 10:30 we drove north and west about 80 kilometers from Vienna, up near the Czech border, to the Thayatal National Park.

The Thaya River runs through this park and divides Austria from the Czech Republic.

There are several hiking trails that begin in different towns within the confines of the park. We started near Merkersdorf and went into the woods, walking mostly along the banks first of a quiet stream, then eventually of the Thaya, across millions of exposed tree roots.

This is the ruins of a small mill (or something) near the stream.

We began walking along this pleasant stream.

Eventually we came to the Thaya and walked along its banks.

In this part of Austria, the middle of the Thaya divides Austria from the Czech Republic.

In the Commie days, this area was heavily guarded on both sides and no doubt mined on the Czech side.

We had a hiking map we'd purchased the day before at the Erntedankfest, from a booth promoting Austria's national parks. But we didn't really need the map, as the trailheads had good maps and the trails themselves are well marked with small metal signs---which I was glad to see contained no goddamned grafitti.

B had talked to her dad on the phone the night before. He's walked these trails and gave us a good suggestion as to which end of the trail to start with. B, as usual, had done her Web research and had a great idea of what to do when we reached the end of the trail, in a town with the unappetizing name of Hardegg. Unappetizing name, but a beautiful little town. Did I say little? In fact it is Austria's smallest town.

And the idea was: take the local cab back to where we'd parked the car. This ended up saving us another two hour walk, on top of the 2.5 hours we'd already spent schlepping ourselves and our rucksacks up and down some very steep trails.

Mushrooms! The woods were thick with them---but not any we knew to be edible.

The skies were overcast and the area had experienced very heavy rains in recent days. The trail was wet and the rocks and tree roots were very slick. But from time to time the sun poked through and lit the woods with that peculiar other-worldly light. 

We found a place to eat lunch, on some large rocks on the river bank. It was quiet. Like a lot of thick woods, you didn't hear birds singing. But we did see a happy little bird flitting from rock to rock, back and forth across the border, skimming the water looking for whatever it is he eats. We, meantime, ate a sandwich.

There weren't too many people out. We passed a few on the trail, but mostly we had the woods to ourselves. Which was a little surprising. Austria is one of the most outdoor-oriented countries around. Everyone likes to take to the woods, the Alps, the various swimming holes, etc. In winter, of course, there's skiing and snowboarding and winter hiking. It makes sense for the people of a beautiful country to want to enjoy nature. I think about this every time I'm on the bus and pass a local "fitness center" and see the drones in there literally running on treadmills. WTF? There are plenty of places even in Vienna to exercise outdoors. Run along the Danube, take a hike somewhere.

After a very steep climb, the trail spit us out in the town of Hardegg.

This footbridge spans the Thaya. On the other side: the Czech Republic.

What you see if you walk across the bridge. Note Commie-era roadblocks, still in place but no longer used.

Burg Hardegg. Yes, even the smallest town in Austria has a fucking castle.

We walked through Hardegg then sat on the curb for a rest. B called the cabbie. About 25 minutes later he showed up from whichever village he'd been in and drove us several kilometers back to our car. B pulled out €10 and asked me if I had €5, which I misunderstood to mean the total was €15. So I dug around for the money and handed to the guy and got out. I figured B had already given her share to the guy and we were done. But after he drove off, I found out I'd misheard----it hadn't been €15 but only €5, total, and she'd only been looking for exact change for the guy. €15 was a bit much so I didn't feel inclined to throw in a tip, but €5 was way too little, I thought, so I felt bad for not tipping the guy. When my paisan Mod hears about this, he'll ream me good because he already thinks I'm a shitty tipper. But it was an honest mistake.

Then we drove to a beautiful little town called Retz. It's known for its local vintners and in fact we ate outdoors on the patio of a place that had a fantastic selection of wines and was ultra-modern inside---the food was very reasonably priced, too, this far from Vienna.

Then we took a little walk around town. By now the sun had come out and the sky, instead of a sick white, was a pleasant blue.

Ancient church tower in Retz.

Old door in Retz.

A view through the old city gate to the old center of Retz.

After Retz, we drove through the countryside and into villages on our way back to Vienna. Fall is coming; we saw smoke tumbling out of a few chimneys. The vineyards are bare of grapes now, though the vines are still lush and green. The sunflowers in the fields are all withered and brown. 

A few miles outside of Vienna, the usual Sunday afternoon traffic jam on the highway. Everyone's coming back from wherever they were, doing whatever outdoor thing they were doing. We were one of them.

Tired from the hike through the woods, and through Retz, but a good tired. Home, some leftover chili, some wine. This place, Vienna, feels like home.

Saturday: Erntedankfest

Rural Austrians have their own version of Thanksgiving, called Erntedankfest. Actually it's more of a harvest festival. Traditionally just celebrated in their own villages, about ten years ago they brought the festivities to Vienna where it morphed into a joint harvest fest / fair, where you can watch traditional activities like log-sawing, folk dancing, etc. and sample / purchase some of the stuff the farmers produce----different cheeses, sausages, oils, wines / spirits, breads, etc.

It's a Saturday - Sunday thing and is held at the Heldenplatz, a huge open plaza attached to the Hofburg.

It's Sturm season and I had my first Sturm yesterday at the festival. Two Sturms, actually...but it was a young Sturm and hadn't developed a kick yet. Still quite delicious, though.

There were several displays of veggies like this.

This crown, made of plants, is paraded around.

Just a few of the few hundred thousand folks they expected this weekend.

There were a lot of places to get drinks and food---and hardly any plastic cups. Almost everything was served in actual glasses and on actual plates. The few exceptions were plastic beer cups if you wanted to walk around and drink, and I saw damned few of those (despite all the happy drinking.) You buy your drink and included is a €2 deposit on each glass. Finish up, bring the glass back, and get your deposit back.

This cuts way, way down on trash. WAY down.

We bought some roedeer salami. I like wild game because it tastes good, and the animal has a natural, wild life until the hunter gets him. We also bought some pumpkin seed oil and some delicious bread.

I really enjoyed these fresh homemade potato chips----

Efficient assembly line operation. This guy carves potatoes into spirals with this machine.

These guys fry them up.

This lady takes your money then puts the chips on a plate for you.

Austro-potato goodness....

These folk dancers were called Voigasplattler and they were bad-ass.

There were a lot of people wandering around in the native costumes of their region, and some interesting folk dancing / music. For instance, one trio of guys cracked whips in time to the music, but they were tame compared to the guys above, Voigasplattler, which roughly means "Full Throttle Plattler." A Schuhplattler is a dance that involves a lot of slapping of the hands against the thighs, the shoes, the chest, etc. accompanied by much jumping around and moving in circles and other patterns. But these guys have taken it to the next level, updating it for the 21st Century.

At first, watching them, I thought: "This is going to be kind of corny and lame." But as they got into it, I saw they were pretty athletic.  Most of these guys had legs like oak trees and had cardio to spare, which I guess you would if you danced all the time at high altitude. Plus they had a great sense of humor and showmanship.

The videos below only show parts of the dances they do, but some of these things go on five minutes or so and they have to be one bunch of in-shape mofos to pull this off.