Frohe Weihnachten! Merry Christmas!

The Fassmeister and the Wiesel would like to wish you all a very merry Christmas. Last weekend we had a few friends over to our house for Christmas Eve. We all had a nice time and all of the ex-pats seemed happy to have a place to spend Christmas Eve. We had our usual assortment of food and beverages, and I, for one, was happy to have some leftover meat sandwiches that usually end up in Bob's stomach. Also this year we produced some of the famed Ray's Punch that everyone seemed to enjoy, especially one of our German friends.

O Tannenbaum... er, O Weihnachtsbaum.... er, O Christbaum
Three words, same tree. Literally: Fir tree, Christmas tree, Christian tree. I have yet to see a sign for Tannenbaum, but the other two terms are used interchangeably, depending on the area of Germany you are in or who runs the stand (store or farm).

This year, Wir gingen groß (we went big). We decided to go slay our own Weihnachtsbaum from a local tree farm near a town called Rambach. Unlike the tree farms in the US that I have been to that plant all of the trees in nice rows, the German trees are randomly planted. This can make it quite difficult to navigate the Tannenbaumwald looking for the perfect tree. We finally found our choice tree after wandering for about 20 minutes or so. We hadn't brought a saw (we don't really have a suitable one for this kind of thing), so we had to go back to the from of the farm and find a farmhand with one. Since the area is fairly densely populated, we decided to leave the Fassmeister by the tree while I went looking for a Mann with a saw. After some fumbled German (they spoke no English), and a whole lot of hand signals, he understood that what I apparently wanted was called a Säge. He told me he could do better... eine Motorsäge!

After a little Marco? Polo! back to the Fassmeister, the helpful attendant whipped out his chainsaw and cut our beloved Christbaum down. Apparently, this is not a very litigious society, because I was standing behind him with my eyes closed while being pelted in the face with fir shavings. He was not wearing any eye protection either.

After navigating back through the forest to the from of the farm, we paid the man our 50 Euro for our 10 foot tree and helped him carry it out to the car. The Germans were a little concerned at our decline of their tree wrapping material, as they were unsure how we were going to strap it to our car. That's when we showed them the pickup we had borrowed from our American friends. For some reason, there are no pick-ups in Germany, but we may have convinced one or two of them to change their ways when we just tossed the old Tannenbaum over the side and into the bed-American efficiency. They were quite impressed. A quick drive home and some decoration has given us quite the envy of the neighborhood.

Lebkuchenhaus
This year we also took another stab at the Gingerbread house for the Christmas Eve party. Since our first one a few years ago was so successful, I decided to make a few modifications to the design. The template we use is a one story bungalow (much like our house used to be in Maryland), but simple designs like that are for simple people, and we do tend to renovate. This year we've added a second story and bumped out a few more gable end dormers on the roof. In order to offset the grand size of the gable sides of the house, we added two wings (one on the west side and one on the east side) to balance the elevations and provide that ever necessary curb appeal. We added a covered entrance way with lifesaver columns to help protect against the elements, hard candy pavers for sure-footedness, and decorated the house with candy lights and wreaths. All of the windows are stained lifesaver glass which help give a warm feeling during this cold winter days. The house survived it's first tests with flying colors. Only minutes after construction and decoration was completed, a vicious powdered sugarstorm came through, but no ill effects were noticed (except that someone left the door open... Fassmeister!) The next day a near miss with the tail of our family friend, Barley hund, had everyone concerned, but everything survived, even the shallow-rooted rare Mitteleuropäische Nordpalme (North-Central-Europena Palm Tree).

We hope that all of you had a very Merry Christmas and enjoyed your own holiday traditions. We certainly missed the holiday season in the states and seeing all of our family and friends. So best wishes to all and just in case you're wondering Santa did arrive in Germany - albeit after the Ray's punch cheer wore off.

Stubai Doobai Doo.....

I started this post a week or so ago.... and finally got around to finishing it. We've been a bit busy...

Das Fassmeister and I joined a ski club in Frankfurt this year, and this past weekend was our first trip. The club tries to design trips around American and British holidays, because that's who most of the members are. It was Veterans day weekend, so this trip left on Thursday night for a long bus ride to Austria. We got into the Stubaital area at around 2AM, slept for five hours, and started the pain.

Day 1: Wiesel, Come to the Dark Side
As I mentioned, the ski area we went to was on the Stubai Gletscher (Stubai Glacier). I had never been skiing on a glacier before, but it was picked because there is guaranteed snow on the glacier year round. We weren't expecting great snow, but we didn't care. That's because, this year, I have turned to the Dark Side. That's right, I decided this year I was going to go full bore on the snowboard. I now shred the nar-nar, ride the single plank, and ruin the skiing for everyone else.

I have become everything I have ever hated.

I have also convinced the Fassmeister that she, too, should try this. I warned her of the pitfalls that may come with a Wiesel getting Method Air, or doing a Phillips 66 or Inverted Aerial by himself. It's inevitable, and the ladies can't resist it.

So we rented a couple of boards and boots and headed to the glacier. Neither of us had been on a snowboard in about 10 years, but the really good part of this trip was that it included a full first day of lessons. Even better was that, other than the Fassmeister and the Wiesel, there was one other person taking lessons. Essentially, this allowed us one-on-one lessons with the instructor. The instructor was excellent, too. She was very methodical and determined to help us learn.

She was, however, rather homocidal. The first thing she had us do was climb up the mountain. The base of the main glacier (middle of the mountain) is at 2900m (9500 ft). There is no oxygen there. None. Zero. When one of us was breathing heavily, no one else was allowed to breath at all. Look Damen, we're fat Americans, stop doing this to us or we'll invade. I mean it.

After the climb, the instructor (we'll call her Juaquin) had us frontsiding, backsiding and mostly sliding around. All well and good. Then came the lift.....

No, not a gondola, not a chair lift, not even a T-bar.... here comes the Platter lift. This type of lift is similar to a T-bar, but you just have a disc tied to a cable that is supposed to go through your legs. All well and good for a skier (who rides like a lobster), but snowboarders glide sideways (much like a crab, which is why snowboarders and skiers can never get together... ). This forces the cable into your thigh the whole way up. Serious pain by the end of the day.

Juaquin taught us full turns and yelled (and smacked) at the Wiesel numerous times for flailing his arms while turning. That's ok though, I came from the Bobby Knight school of coaching, so I can take a hit.

Anyway, the day went well, we were both very sore, and the apres-ski was nice. Kalt bier (oder heiss gluhwein) makes the bruises go away. We went back to the hotel and had dinner. The Fassmeister went to bed and the Wiesel ended up in a discussion of WWII military tactics with a Finnish girl. She was convinced, I'm sure.

Day 2: Recipe for Disaster
Not enought sleep, over-confidence, and slight powder can make evil bed fellows (not as much as the crab and lobster, but I digress). We started off pretty well, the turns were good, and the soreness of the Platter lift was showing. After lunch, we decided to take the Gondola all the way up to the top. We could have taken the T-bar but neither of us were skilled enough not to take out the entire lift. Besides, at the altitude of the top (Schaufelspitze 3333m, 10935 ft) your blood will boil if you move around too much and don't wear a g-suit.

So, we cruised up to the top, and the scenery was just gorgeous. But, we found that the trails from up there to the front of the mountain were narrow and bordered by canyons. We wanted to get to the easier front face of the glacier without dying (we wanted to make it to the apres-ski festivities) so we walked.

We started heading down what we thought was a pretty easy sloped face, and found out we were out-classed. The fassmeister seemed to take it slowly and just get down. I thought for sure that all that practice and success on the bunny slope would allow me to shred like there was nar-nar tomorrow. Nein, nein. I was mistaken. I rolled down the hill, mostly. The board embedded itself into moguls, my thigh, and steel poles on the way down. The ladies were less than impressed.

We returned to the bunny hill for the remained of the day.

Apres-Ski
It is tradition (in Europe at least) that after the lifts close, everyone hangs out outside (still in ski clothes) listens to loud music (ABBA), and drinks heavily. For several hours. It's as much fun as you might think. The lack of oxygen aids in the festivities, and the Germans (pretty much Austrians are just southern Germans) are by far the roudiest I have ever seen them. They even talk to each other.

Day 3: Recover and Ride
By day three, the bruises can barely be felt (they're pretty much calloused) and everything is feeling more comfortable. We did really well this day. We didn't leave the bunny hill, but we had a fellow club member work with us on our turns and were getting really successful at them. We boarded through lunch and caught the bus at 3ish for the long ride back to Frankfurt.

All in all it was a good experience, and I'm excited to keep up the boarding all season. We're not sure the next time we'll make it back out (probably January), but we're ready!

All of the joy! Less of the hassle!

Thanks to our friend Jurevicious who provided me the link to FeedBurner. Now, all of you who are tired of checking and re-checking waiting for our next insightful post can Subscribe via Email.

Genau.

That's right, no more refreshing your browser every 30 seconds to see if we've published another delightful issue! Now you can just sit back and wait and let the computers of the world do the work. What a novelty!

I know, some of you are a little skeptical about this new-fangled technology thingy, but we've tried to ease some of your worry with a list of (soon-to-be) frequently asked questions:

Q: Won't the government know that I'm looking at your site? I mean, they read all of our emails, right?
A: Yes. They read all of your stupid forwards with the dancing baby.

Q: What if I can't find this archive when i finally decide to subscribe?
A: Look to the left. See the linky? Good. Click it.

Q: You haven't posted your Oktoberfestbier review yet? When is that coming?
A: This FAQ is about subscribing, not posting.

Q: What about the hornets? What ever happened with them?
A: That, too, will be another post, but this is about subscribing.

Q: You started out at such a quick posting pace, what happened?
A: I wasn't working then. Don't you have anything to ask about the subscription?

Q: What about Berchtesgaden? Was it nice?
A: You're getting on my nerves....

Q: Is there any way you'll actually post something useful for those of us considering traveling to Germany?
A: No more questions!

Q: Will Lou Piniella take your beloved Cubbies all the way next year, or will they just collapse again?
A: ...hmph.....

Bringing Sexy Back

In honor of Justin Timberlake's hit song and his official title as the new King of Poop, we at FassmeisterWiesel are bringing sexy back. No, not in music video form, but in the best form possible: a blog about a beer fest! And not just any beer fest, the Fest of All Fests... Oktoberfest.

Twelve hours a day, people from all over the world gather in a park in Munich to: drink beer, socialize, drink beer, sing, dring beer, eat half chikens, drinc again, singl, drank bier, soshializ, drinc brrr, ride roller coasters, drk br, zing!, dfdsfaf... drool.

Anyway, you get the point. And when I say twelve hours, I mean it exactly. They open the fest halls at noon, and they absolutely positively close at 12:00 midnight. They actually stop serving beer around 11:15 or so. I couldn't believe it. We're not used to that being from the states. I was stunned, surprised, excited and relived all at once. The last thing I needed at 11:30 was another MaB. What I really needed was to eat another half chicken, but none of those were available either. Everything closes.

Because of the sheer magnitude of such an event, we felt it necessary to present the sights of Weisn with flair. Thus, we are bring you, our loyal fan (Jurevicious), our memories (yeah, memories) of Oktoberfest in exciting Grammy style! Das Fassmeister and das Wiesel: Bringing Sexy Back!

I Was Sexy, When Sexy Wasn't Cool...
The historical German dress is called Tracht. For the men, this means lederhosen (leather slacks) and funny hats. For women this is, quite simply, one of the greatest outfits ever. EVER. The women all look like St. Pauli Girl. Short skirts (or sometimes dresses) with pushup tops. Truly spectacular. The Fassmeister will not allow me to comment any further. Since ths was our first trip to the Weisn and we live in this country now, we felt we needed to fit in.

The MaB. OK, the B is pronounced like a double s and the a is pronounced like ah. So, it's mahss. They are liters of beer that cost a measely 7,50 Euro. That's all. Every single person is drinking one, all the time. They're heavy, they're glass, and by the way the Germans slam them together every time someone says Prost!, they must be unbreakable. They are not, I can vouch for that. In fact, if you Prost! them just right, they shatter quite spectactularly, dousing your closet neighbor in the process.

I Like Beer! It Makes Me a Sexy Good Fellow!
Ein Prosit! Ein Prosit! Der Gemutlichkeit!
This song is sang every 1.392 seconds in München during the Weisn. Essentially is means "Good cheers to all!" with a subtitle of "Drink up you lush!" under your breath. Everytime you sing it, everyone drinks. You can do the math. By German law, if you don't drink at the end of this song, they deport you.

Other tunes the Germans love to rock to when drinking heavily:

• Summer of '69 - Bryan Adams
• Hearing a German say "Me and some boyz from shkool" is sexy
• Country Roads - John Denver
• Yes, that West Virginia. Mountain Momma, take me home, please, before they play it for the 17th time.
• Anything by ABBA
• It is uncanny the popularity of ABBA songs in this country. I've always hated Dancing Queen and was willing to let it go at that. Now I hate a lot more. I think it's healthy.

You Can Loosen Up My Sexy Baby, But You Keep Fronting Me
At the Fest grounds, ther are around 20 or so "tents" set up every year. Using the words "tents" is like calling a MaB a beer. It started as one, in thought, but then blossomed into some inhuman drunk senior project for some over-worked civil engineers. The tents are massive. At least 600 feet long and 300 feet wide. They each contain a bandstand with a 50-piece orchestra. OK, orchestra may be a stretch, they have 20 horns, 20 accordians, a guitar or two and some drums. Oh, and a head accordian.

We somehow got tickets into the Wienerwald tent. It seemed more like a trailer at first, compared to the big boys, but it was loads of fun. I believe it was right before we got here that the cell phone went on the lam.

You could be my Flamingo, ´Coz Pink is the new Sexy Lingo
At Oktoberfest, funny hats are a necessity. I picked up mine at the fest. The hat looks less funny when you have the outfit on, then it just looks sexy.

We saw the flamingo on Lake Erie in Ohio this past spring, and just knew it would come in handy at some point. Don't ya love the pig-tails?

At Wienerwald (by the way, that means Viennese Forest, or wiener world, whatever), we met some Austrians that absolutely loved the Flamingo. We have some great pictures of them all drunk with this thing tied around their heads. I won't post those, though, cause I'm pretty sure one of them was running for Congress, and it's best to hold onto those types of things until you've been in office for 40 years. Right Floridians?

Roll Out the Sexy! We'll Have a Barrel of Fun!
Ammer would bring their beer to the tent via horse-drawn cart. I think this picture sums up a lot about Oktoberfest. This is almost too sexy to post. Just look at Klaus' reaction (left) to my outfit.

Him singing:
"I see by your outfit, that you are a German."
Me singing:
"I see by your outfit you are a German, too."
Us singing to obvious non-German on the right:
"We see by our outfits, that we are both Germans. If you get an outfit you can be a German, too!"

Some other Sexy hits:

One O'Clock, Two O'Clock, Three O'Clock, Sexy!
We did actually make it into Munich on day two. This picture was taken sometime after the loss of the cell phone but before the loss of the wallet.

We're standing in front of the famed Rathaus-Glockenspiel. Apparently, twice-a-day the characters at the top spin around to tell two stories from the 16th century. Neither of these times worked for us. One of them was before we got up, I believe, and the other was in prime Fest time (And for those of you saying we could have taken some time out from the to come see this wonder of 16th century art... um, the Fest is only open until midnight, remember?)

Besides, we're planning on going back to Munich next year. Genau.

Of course, we must include the photo de resistance:

Sexy Back

Answer: A handy, a wallet, and a computer power supply

Question: Name three things that didn't survive the round trip to München.

Carnak was always one of my favorite characters on the old Johnny Carson show. (For those of you that are old enough to remember Carson. Oh, and for those of you still young enough, like our friend silversurfer, to still be able to access those memories.)

We are back from a wonderful trip, but when we got back our computer's power supply had died, so we've been trying to get that fixed. Simple enough it would seem, if we spoke the language, and understood why they don't sell dual voltage P/S in Germany, and could figure out what size screws we need to mount the thing back in the case. None of these are obvious to us. Thus, we have been behind in the blog.

However, like I said, the trip to Oktoberfest was great The first night we met up with some friends or ours and ended up losing the cell phone. The next night I lost my wallet, presumably on a ride, but who knows. We had prepared the wallet for just such an event, so only about ten bucks was lost.

The next post will include some photos and a summary of our Oktoberfest events, as soon as we get our computer fired up again.