Europa Europa! Part II

Before embarking upon musings of my Germany escapade back in November I'd like to tie up some loose ends with some final thoughts on Britain.

First of all, Londoners are abject clueless costumers when it comes to Halloween. I was there for my final Saturday night in London and what I witnessed would have made West Hollywood Drag Queens stand aghast in horror frozen by the icy grip of infinite faux pas in fashion and make up choices. The British seemed caught between not wanting to do anything and not wanting to do too much for fear of appearing to actually care for the holiday so they meandered in this gray area of half-assedness that made it even worse.

Apart from the ridiculous hats and rudimentary accessorizing the majority of revelers seemed content to smear on some arbitrary muddied rouge and streaky eyeliner around their faces thus passing themselves off as some facsimile of a Zombie or Undead being. But since their demeanor also included a pint of drunkenness, a cup of sarcasm, a dash of haughtiness and a pinch of paranoia what they really looked like was a bunch of fans that just came from a glam rock concert where they had been standing in the rain and punching each other for several hours. These Undead wouldn't last a second in a crowd of real Zombies before they began shrieking like Banshees, hell they wouldn't last a second at Bar Sinister in Hollywood amongst a mob of angst ridden Goths from Riverside.

I kept looking for the Homos and I'm guessing they all stayed in recognizing the futility of the situation. Honestly, a sprinkling of Gay Costuming Genius would have saved the day and may have even have gone so far as to inspire the anus puckered bunches of pint guzzlers. Maybe the Homos held private parties or walked anonymously amongst the normies gleefully indulging in endless moments of pure condescension not found on a normal night in London. I guess it would be kind of cool if Yom Kippur was a holiday celebrated by all whereby I could walk amongst the Gentiles on that day and snort at them whilst thinking 'Y'all have no idea how to beat yourself up, c'mon is it Yom Masturbation tonight?!? Stop stroking yourselves and make with the uppercuts to the stomach!'

Anyway, last tidbit on London which I'm still finding myself annoyed about: The Globe Theater. I was excited to visit this landmark, take a tour of the premises and have my picture taken on the stage of the Globe while holding a decidedly Shakespearean pose; it was the only photo op that I had my mind set on other than Abbey Road which I never got around to. So we get there and after a bit of investigating it turns out that tours of the Globe, after doing the math of pounds into dollars which had made me sickly and infuriated the entire trip, were around twenty bucks. Now...you might say that's not so bad, and, hey support the arts etc. but here's the thing: This wasn't the actual Globe Theater, it was a replica, built on a spot that they figured was where the original one was; they're not 100% sure. So let me ask you, hypothetically speaking, how would you feel shelling out twenty bones in Italy to walk around a replica of the Roman Coliseum or twenty bucks to walk around a duplicate rendering of Stonehenge placed in or around some guesstimate of where the original was? Exactly! Look people, this is a modern building! There's no 'Here's where the guys who dressed up like chicks shaved their legs sat and here's where the Queen parked her musty cooter' no, not at all, it's more like 'Here's where Nigel sits after enduring an hour long trek on the Picadilly line and there's where he puts his Starbucks mug'. Booool Shite. Ten bucks, tops and it should come with some snobby gent in a tweed coat who improvises sonnets on the spot that shows you around while making up stories about his acting career that's now non-existent.

Alrighty then, onto Deutschland!

Seriously people, I LOVED Germany. Loved it. Every bit. I had no idea what to expect as was the case for the entire trip but I was really taken by how extremely beautiful it was. Now, to be clear, I spent all of my time in and around Bavaria which is in the south of Germany.

Apparently Germans think of this area as Americans think of their South, all slow, backwards and quaint. I've never been to the South in the States save for a brief number of days at the University of Virginia when I went to see my closest friend back in my college days so I really don't have a point of reference to compare. All I can say is that everyone I met or witnessed while ambling out and about was kind, warm and generous. I never got the sense of really bad vibe from anyone. What amused me the most was the staring, as in people would stare at me for moments on end on numerous occasions. But rather than glance away or act caught when I noticed them they would just smile or nod their heads and continue to stare! There's a reaaaally bad Jew joke here that I won't oblige myself to write, no no, nope, not gonna do it, too easy. Hmm, how about this, a lil' more sophisticated: I wish I could have whipped out a yarmulke and some curls to put on the sides of my head and began snapping my fingers like a Rabbi in ecstatic prayer; that might've got them to feel a bit awkward about pasting their eyes on me right?

Here's what struck me the most about Germany...I could not believe how incredibly clean it was! Felix Unger would skip the pearly gates of Heaven and most definitely opt for Germany if given the choice. There was no litter or garbage anywhere, none, I didn't even see dust, like do these people decompose like normal humans?

I never even actually saw Germans cleaning which was even more bizarre. I could understand if they all had dusters on a utility belt of some sort with mini-vacuums, disinfectants and sanitizers as if Batman were a maid but somehow everything was always magically clean. I was so tempted to see what would happen if I dropped some refuse on the street. I wouldn't have been surprised if it either went up in smoke, entered a garbage stargate to be taken to another dimension (probably Newark, hmm, could explain some things) or if lil' sprites dressed as Saint Pauli Girls crawled through the crevices in the sidewalk and pranced away with it. Bottom line, no need to worry about Street Cleaning Parking Violations in Allemagne.

Next up...German Bakeries. Ooh, yes, see, mouth watering, heat flash, tiny currents of libidinous pastry desires coursing through my glistening taste buds. Seemed as if every corner had some sort of Bakery beckoning me and my palate with its delicate sugary confections. Oh my, so good, so cheap, so readily available and up to the task of satisfying the job at hand at all times...hmm, I think I also just described the Mexicans at Home Depot. But really, I mean, even a Gas Station convenience store, which was spotless of course, sold these pastries that rivaled any top patisseries in Beverly Hills. Awww, I miss my strudels.

Speaking of Strudels, let's get to the women for a moment. How do I put this...well, I really thought they were sexy but, no, not even a but, it's just that, well, I picked up on a, uh, naughty dirty quality to them if that makes sense; like they were all bad bad girls but in a good way not in a repressed unhealthy way that came out at random times or was a result of being subconsciously brainwashed into sluttiness by corporate entertainment. The sexuality was much more out in the open than in the States or London. I couldn't help but laugh every time I went into a Men's room, there were always condoms in a machine for sale and one lavatory had some type of a vibratinng tickler or sex toy in a machine as well, not making that up.

Did women's bathrooms sell pocket rockets? Were there uni-sex bathrooms that had a hook-up stall? See, that's a great idea, feel free to roll with that one if you got some venture capital lying around. Since people bang in bathrooms at clubs all the time why not just make it more accessible and practical for them? Make a stall with some cushions, soundproof walls, a swing maybe and a table of some sort. Decorate it with some updated Kama Sutra art showing positions of all kinds, litter the walls with some bawdy accessories and have it pumped with vanilla or lavender all night. Place a lil' toilet and sink in the corner and voila! No more texting, facebooking and driving to Santa Ana to have to meet up with someone you have no interest of getting to know beyond a simple smooch-a-thon.

Not that there's anything wrong with women from Santa Ana besides the fact that they live there. I almost think that could be the secondary dismissive excuse to blow off a guy after the boyfriend line. Honestly once a number begins with 714 or 949 I can feel myself crippling over into the despair of a hunched impotent invalid. I would not be in the least bit surprised to find out that chicks get Orange County numbers to use to stave off advances by dudes and douchebags, brilliant idea. Hey, when I lived in the city the moment you said you lived in Queens that was that. If you said you had a boyfriend and lived in Queens I immediately scanned the area for a Guido with a crossbow.

Okay back to Germany. Two events really punctuated my trip to Europe as a whole. I'll get to the second one at a later date due to the length of both. The first: My Birthday Walk.

My actual Birthday fell on a day while I was in Germany. Having already had a fantastic ass-shaking blow-out party in Hollywood before leaving that included an impromptu grind-on-the-bar /hop-onto-railings dance-off to Prince's 'How Come You Don't Call me Anymore' with some leggy blonde Australian babe I didn't really need to have a blow out in Germany although it would've been nice. What ended up transpiring was beyond what I ever could have imagined.

So my adventurous travel partner is a serious hiker/walker and we were staying at her mom's in Germany. She had an extensive knowledge of the surrounding areas and walking possibilities having lived there for many years so it was suggested to me that I join her on a meditative walk on my day of birth. She warned me that it wasn't gonna be a tidy two or three mile jaunt but rather a lengthy one of twelve kilometers or so. After doing the math and figuring out that meant around 8 miles which was a bit long for me I decided why the hell not, what else was I gonna do? I had already finished the 2nd book of the Dragon Tattoo trilogy, which was excellent, all I had left my was my new David Icke book which really isn't a page turning cuddle up in a corner type read. So I stuck an apple in my jacket and strode out the door following her lead.

The countryside was so majestic and picturesque that all the pictures I took didn't even come close to doing it justice no matter how wide a shot I took. As the yards and miles drifted into my time loop my breath steadied itself into a supportive apparatus for my spirit to begin it's dialogue with my mind, slowly but surely. Twas not a wordy conversation more so a 'Hey good to say hi again' type exchange. After a while it gently tucked my brain to sleep and I was wholly connected to source.

Our final destination if you want to call it that was a clearing that supposedly had a special energy and light being inhabited by it. I didn't feel it instantaneously due to my being pre-occupied by tiredness and the aches and pains associated with it. Yet after nestling in the center of this space it only took a few nibbles of my apple before I could allow my senses to tune into the tranquil buzz of conscious stillness infused with an undeniable essence of nurturing. I only had a brief experience of this because minutes later I was told it was time to go due to getting back before dark fell.

Cut to...dark. No, cut to...pitch black. We see our heroes walking along the road of the countryside with no streetlights save for the occasional shushing of a passing car. In each direction farmland stretches into the horizon, footsteps tread upon uneven ground as the cold creeps underneath hems and zippers. I had no sense of where we were on our journey back and at no point did I really recognize much so I was clueless as to how much we had left as far reaching home. At one point we got back to town but I wasn't clear if it was the same as where we were staying. Here's where it gets weird...

We reached a bridge, I was walking behind our heroine for the entire trek back but always kept her in my sights. As she disappeared over the hump of this smallish bridge she literally disappeared. When I got to the other side I had no idea where she went. I kept walking and didn't see her, a lil' touch of concern hit me and I quickened my pace while calling for her. When I got nothing back my pace quickened even more and before I knew it I was yelling and sprinting into the darkness which was the enveloping me now that I had swept past the town.

After collapsing into exhaustion I realized she was nowhere to be found and that I was on my own with no idea as to where I was. I had no money on me, no phone, no ID and spoke not a lick of German. My only option was to keep going and go I did into the darkness. Eventually I came upon a tiny stretch of homes that was nothing like where we were staying so I kept going. At this point I was quite distressed but...I never panicked. There was maybe one or two minutes of tears welling up and a 'woe-is-me what a way to spend a b-day' refrain but that passed rather swiftly. After going through more darkness and alighting upon another chunk of homes that looked nothing like anything I had seen I knew it was time to stop. Desperately needing tissues more than anything due to the sniffles I dragged my raw achiness to some sort of bus stop and contemplated taking a nap, I was thoroughly spent in every sense of the word.

Okay, I'm smart, I'm aware, I know no matter what that I'm taken care of on so many levels so there's no reason whatsoever to be upset or worry about not finding my way back somehow. That's what was so profound about this entire episode. Connecting to that truth. I mean, it's one thing to have that resonate when you're low on funds at home or when you're struggling onstage or questioning your success in your career and love life but to have that encompass every fiber of my being while lost in a foreign country was deeply powerful. To truly know it, to smile in the face of the uncertainty and laugh at the void...brought tears to my eyes.

Looking across from me were some cows chewing on their cuds, staring at me and seeming to nod their approval at my haircut. I queried them on my next move and they rolled their eyes at me and went about their business whatever that might be. I guess that's what I get from eating their cousins. Exhaling I stepped into the road and confidently began hailing down the rare trickle of motorists that was passing through. I wonder if the Germans were expecting me to break into song when they rolled down their windows due to my look. They love bubble gum pop music over there, maybe I should have broken into Pretty Young Thing by MJ, I probably would've gotten picked up and offered a gig. Took me about three cars before I was lucky to find someone who spoke English and they confirmed what I already knew which was to turn around from whence I came and walk back. I knew in my gut I must have passed where I was supposed to end up I just didn't know how the hell I did it.

Cut to a while later and me trudging into a townish area. Looking ahead were flashing lights, great, Aliens, just what I need now, can't you wait for the usual wait-til-he's about to sleep moment to mess with me...oh wait that's a car. It's our Heroine getting out and telling me to stop. Okay. I'll gladly oblige. What? Look to my left? I looked and there was the house where we were staying, I was found right where I was supposed to be by her and her mom after they had been driving everywhere looking for me.

Somehow I walked right pass the house and did it at such a moment that I just missed her going inside and coming back out to look for me or something like that, I can't remember that part. It was like I entered a Bermudashweigerstein Triangle when I got to the other side of the bridge and was in another dimension. Whatever the case was it was perfect and was meant to happen every second that it did and I am decidedly grateful for it.

To cap the entire affair I was let in on the actual distance of our walk. My fellow traveler apparently miscalculated the distance, it wasn't 8 kilometers it was 12. Factor in the distance I traveled beyond the home and back and I walked approximately 20 plus miles that day. That's more than I've ever walked in my life, as far as I know, especially in a continuous manner.

Wow. What a Birthday. One I'll never forget. Perfect in its execution on a bevy of levels and frequencies and I'd dare say the reason that I went on this trip to begin with.

I've said it, written it, thought it many times before but it was more a consequence of hope, bluster and expectation. This time I just know...and it's, it's really challenging to stay present in the moment when you know that all you've ever dreamed of is closer than ever. I falter into bouts of self-destruction as if that would test my reality for it's inexorable outcome. I rev up my communication and interactions to such a frequency that it's almost impossible to root into the simplicity of the now which is constantly telling me to relax.

I've been battling myself the entire time that I've been on this planet this time around. I've strategized sneak attacks and ambushes that generals would murder nations for. I've leapt out of chariots rushing me to my glory and derided fellow travelers so that I would deliberately be left behind. All because I didn't believe that all I've been given would be enough, there had to be a catch. Nope. No catch. No fine print to peruse or hidden clauses. No rugs over empty holes. No bait and switch.

On bloodied knees amidst weaponry strewn for miles I grapple with the last vestiges of a dying self during the weeks that I've committed to internally cleanse myself. White Flags appear and disappear. Let. It. Go.

Yup. I have no idea how I'm gonna get home. None whatsoever.

But I know I'm gonna get there.