Biscuit City

And it was.  As we walked off the plane about 2:30 this afternoon, Becky remarked that the Virginia heat and humidity felt right.  We proceeded through passport control and customs and into the airport where Amy met us.

I don’t have the sense right now to put together some observations about the trip (my body clock says it’s 2:30 AM), so I’ll do that later. One thing that we all noticed was the sequence of checks at the airport.  Here, we checked in and checked our passports, went through security en masse, and proceeded to the gate.  At DeGaulle airport outside Paris, we checked in, checked our bags, went through passport control, and then through security at the gate.  Some of our company had water bottles they had to discard.  I somehow set off the alarm and was patted down by a nice young French man.  It felt more like a gentle massage so I didn’t mind.

All right, then, have to catch up on a number of things, one of which is sleep.  Thanks for your comments and for following us on our trip.  Film at 11.

Happy Fourth of July! Usually we have a low-key day: we put a few decorations out and have a cookout. Today’s activities were on a much grander scale. We got up early to take the buses to the American Cemetery at Normandy, about a three-hour drive.

It was a faultless day and the cemetery is impressive and beautiful with its white marble markers and well-maintained plantings.

We sang our songs after a snafu involving another choir which was supposed to combine with us but didn’t, sucking up our preparation time. I thought we did a nice job with the songs, notwithstanding.

The cemetery overlooks Omaha beach. It is incredible to consider that those soldiers came ashore under heavy German fire from the cliffs above. Evidence of the price they paid was all around us.

We went down to the beach itself to eat our lunch. Itis a regular bathing beach which either seems ironic considering all the suffering that took place there or appropriate that families are able to enjoy the place quietly and in peace. I couldn’t decide which.

We then returned to a farewell dinner but it was all over but the shouting. Tomorrow it’s back on the airplane and then home.

Today was another Typical Tourist Day starting with an optional trip to Versailles. We had our usual guide on our bus, which was great.  She filled us in on the stories of Kings Louis XIV (the Sun King), Louis XV (the Fun King, for his love of hunting both animals and women) and Louis XVI (the Dead King–you know). I vaguely remember visiting the place when I was a student.  At the time my revolutionary self thought the excesses of the place were disgusting so it didn’t make much of an impression, just a bunch of decorated rooms and ornate exteriors. This time I felt sad that so many people had suffered so much to indulge a group of privileged people who were in their own way sad in their narcissism and self-absorption. Our guide led us and did her usual excellent job but there were so many people pressing in I felt like I was in a semi-permenent rugby scrum. I was glad to escape to the cool and quiet of the gardens. This all reflected one kind of light, the light of the Sun King and the light of the, well, Enlightenment.

Since we had two buses our leaders polled us and determined that one bus would return to the hotel and one would get as close as possible to Notre Dame. We took the Notre Dame bus and, with two young friends, set off for some shopping in the Marais, a section where most stores are open on Sunday.  We then came back to Notre Dame, met up with some friends, and joined the thousand-yard line (no kidding) to get into the cathedral. The line moved surprisingly quickly, though,and we sat through most of the concert. Then we made our way to the Metro where we encountered our guide.  It was good to see her! We went back to the hotel where we rested for a while.  Then we found a cafe and enjoyed a very good French meal. We took the Metro to Sacre Coeur, gazing on the vistas lit pink by the last of the sun (this was about 10:15 PM). We made our way back and tumbled into our room about 11.

It occurred to me that we experienced at least four kinds of light this day.  One was the light of the deluded Sun King.  Another was the light of the Enlightenment, a third was the light of religion at Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur while the fourth was the light of the setting sun.  That last light seemed appropriate as our time here nears an end.

Tomorrow we travel to Normandy where we remember those for whom the light was extinguished all too soon.

Today was our sight-seeing day in Paris, in which we tried to cram as many Paris sights into one day as we could.  I was there for five months in 1966-67 and didn’t see it all so I was interested in how they would work this.

Our first breakfast at the Ibis Hotel was good, and even included make-your-own crepes!  We ate a lot, knowing that subsequent  meals might be delayed.  Then it was onto the bus and off to the Eiffel Tower.

There are some things in life that are underwhelming, like Stonehenge.  I know it’s a great feat of engineering and all that, but it looks so small against the landscape.  The Eiffel Tower on the other hand is overwhelming.  I remember when I walked around a corner in August, 1966, and there it was, huge and beautiful.  I’m here to report it hasn’t changed. It is still just overwhelming. Our group had a good time riding the elevators to the second level, taking pictures of the vistas and each other and enjoying the peerless views on a sunny, clear day.

We went to a place for lunch near the Arch de Triomph which is still as grand as ever and still as terrifying with its about 16 lanes of traffic coming together. The lunch was good (with vegetables!) and we had a leisurely drive down the Champs Elysees to the Louvre for our tour with a guide.  The process took over 45 minutes to set up, and while the guide was knowledgeable, the place was hot, crowded and noisy. Supposedly it would take three months to look at everything on display and I believe it.  I am happy to report the Mona Lisa looks better and is displayed better than in 1966.  And the controversial entryway with its glass pyramids is quite striking.

A group of us went up to the Galeries Lafayette store where a crazy sale was going on.  I bought a map of Paris.  We walked over to the nearest subway station, figured out the fare card and jumped on the first train that came by.  Becky and I were knocked back by the doors closing and had to take the next train.  Our group was sitting on a bench in the station,waiting for us. We ran into some other friends and had dinner at a cafe across the street from the hotel.

Today’s experiences were a reminder that this trip is not just about singing and sightseeing: it has been an opportunity to strengthen old relationships, create new ones and to know that when life knocks you back, there will be friends waiting at the next station to make sure you’re all right and to pick you up again.

This morning we left Slauternberg for France.  We didn’t even stop at the frontier. I had forgotten about the travel advantages of the EU.
The  American cemetery at Lorraine is the largest American military cemetery overseas.  It is quietly dignfied and strikingly beautiful. The assistant director of the cemetery talked with us about the cemetery and some of the people buried there. We then sang some of our songs. The one Becky directed was particularly meaningful, I thought, “Creation Will Be at Peace.” It begins, “In the holy mountain of the Lord, all war and strife will cease…”
We transferred to French buses at the cemetery (not sure exactly why) and also met our guide who is a funny Frenchwoman.  She gave us a big talk about the history of eastern French which most people went to sleep to.  I stayed awake because I wanted to do well on the test. I also tried to unrust my French but the cashier at flunch didn’t undersand when I asked her if we could use the gas checkout for food.  I also couldn’t remember the word for knife (couteau) when we needed one to cut our big old sandwich.
Then it was the four-hour trip to Paris, complete with D.C.-style traffic jams as we neared the city.  The guide asked usif we had traffic like this and everyone laughed.  We checked into tyhe hotel and had a nice meal.  And so to bed.
I was last here in 1966, when World War II had been over for only 21 years. Because of toil and sacrifice of so many, inlcuding those in the cemetery in Lorraine, I could go to Paris then and now we have Bon nuit from the City of Light.

Today we set off for Heidelberg, for some singing at the cathedral, some shopping and sightseeing time  and dinner together (140 of us) at a restaurant in the shadow of the cathedral.
The cathedral, we found out, was originally built to house the library for the University of Heidelberg about six hundred years ago in the rear part. The front part was a cemetery! Eventually it became a classic Gothic cathedral and for a while housed both Protestant and Catholic congregations using a divider down the middle of the church, which became totally Protestant in the early twentieth century.
We listened to the cathedral organist play Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue,” and experienced the three-second reverberation as we sang several of the anthems we did the previous night.
Then we were off on our own, sampling the restuarants and visiting the shops and sights.  A number of people rode the “funicular” to the Heidelberg Castle, explored the area and enjoyed the panorama of the city below us.
We went to a restaurant where we crammed inside.  I started to experience claustrophobia from the number of people crammed into the room and the level of noise. As it happened, they ran out of seats inside and we had to sit outside where we had a not-so-good meal in the company of Joe Martin’s wife Sue, her mother and a friendl Both ladies had been teachers and, being from Dayton, knew a ton about aviation history.
The streets of the old city of Heidelberg are a combination of pedistrian walks with cars and trucks allowed.  I can see trucks for deliveries, but cars?  Sitting outside at the resturant for dinner it was sometimes unnerving to have a car pass a foot or so away. Mercifully they drove slowly and the Germans do have a reputation for being good drivers.
We got back on the bus about 8:30. and set off for the hotel.  In spite of the different language and medieval setting, it occurred to me that  tourism and shopping have gotten to be much the same no matter where we are.
And so to France tomorrow and our first concert in an American military cemetery,

We started out today with a cruise on the Rhine River during which we saw about twenty castles and ruins of castles, numerous cargo boats, and vineyards running up nearly 45 degree slopes. Lunch was schnitzel so I feel like I have had traditional German food.
Then we went to theFaith Baptist Church in Kaiserslautern where we had a three-hour plus rehearsal  including instruments.  I thought we were for the most part well-prepared. 
The church served a meal of chicken and rice with lemon sauce and watermelon (which I don’t like BTW) but it was nice of them to feed all 140 of us.
The concert went well with a webcast so that we heard from people in the States about it. It should be available soon at the church’s website.
I was thinking that we went down to the river all day long.  We went down to the literal Rhine river with its history, commerce and natural beauty.  We went to the church which is part of the long-flowing river of Christianity and we drew on the deep river of American song. Not a bad day’s work, that.
Tomorrow we go to Heidelberg to sing at the Cathedral and do a little shopping. I hope I can post this today since the internet here is, to put it charitably, sporadic.

Well, here we are in Kaiserslautern, Germany, after about a thirty-hour day, or so it seemed.
We got to the airport the recommended three hours early, and I have to tell you that United Airlines has to do a better job with international checkins.  First of all, it’s not clear which line you get in.  We started to get in one in the front of the terminal but asked and were told we needed to go around to the rear.  There was a line about 1000 feet long but it seemed to be moving quickly so we joined it, meeting up with people from the Chorale as we looped back and forth.  When it became our turn, we had to use the automatic checkin which entailed scanning our passports. The agent snapped at Becky for not knowing where to scan the document.  We also noticed several other United agents fussing at people.  I know it’s a busy time for them when all the international flights seem to go out at once, but don’t you think they would know that by now and put on a few more agents…or at least some good-humored ones? Makes sense to me.

Anyhow, her document was accepted and the screen asked her if anyone were travelling with her.  That would be me so I scanned my passport and the machine printed out a boarding pass.B  ecky didn’t did get one, so we had to find a (non fire-breathing) agent.  We did so and she fixed us both up with a boarding pass and we were on our way. Becky set off the detector at security with her hip replacement so she was patted down.  Turns out she was supposed to tell them before she went through the detector and they would have put her through the infamous scanner.  This was a big secret, but she walked through the detector and then they had to pat her down.  I stood there and stared at the procedure, but she took it with good humor.

We got to the gate where there were a number of our people there. Waiting for a flight is a whole lot more fun if you’re doing it with people you know. One couple came up to the gate as boarding was beginning.  They had spent an hour and 45 minutes trying to check in.  The same thing happened to the man as happened to Becky except he couldn’t get the attention of an agent. Finally they asked for other passengers on Flight 916 and then they got their passes.  Come on, United, you gotta do better.

The flight was fairly uncomfortable, since we were crammed into steerage.  The seats made my hips and knees hurt so I couldn’t sleep.They did keep feeding us which helped.  The flight landed and we made our way through customs and retrieved our luggage.

We met up with the leaders at the Meeting Point (that’s what it’s called) in the Frankfurt Airport, loaded on a bus and were off to…Worms?  This was a surprise side trip, probably to occupy us until we could check into the hotel.  We found Worms to be interesting and historic with some beautiful very old churches. We also found we couldn’t figure out the menus in the restaurants but finally we found one that had a picture menu we could point to.  Then it was back to the bus and on to our hotel in Kaiserslautern.

There we took naps, freshened up (it was very hot here today with little air conditioning), had a big (if slow) traditional German dinner together of thousands of carbohydrates on the plate. We then had a short orientation meeting about what to expect (answer:anything) and rehearsed the music for an hour or so. Then it was time to relax and prepare for tomorrow, which will being a cruise on the Rhine, a loooong rehearsal, and our first concert in town. Stay tuned to see if we melt from the heat.

This afternoon we leave with 30 or so other members of the Manassas Chorale to join about 80 other choral singers in Germany and France for a week of touring and concerts.  We will do concerts in Kaiserslautern and Heidelberg and then travel to the American Cemetery in Lorraine where we will sing,  and on to Paris for a little sightseeing and then to the American Cemetery in Normandy for a concert on July 4.  We return on July 5.

I was thinking about the last time I was in France, about 45 years ago.  I was part of a semester abroad program which consisted of six weeks’ language training in Tours, France, and the rest of the time in Paris.  The thirty or so of us in the program were on our own to find our housing and meals.  All we had to do was to attend a seminar each week hosted by a professor on sabbatical and write a paper (in French). I later became good friends with the professor who had limited vision so that he had to have everything read to him.  I was one of his readers when we returned to the U.S. He was also a dyed-in-the-wool Marxist who could see a conflict between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat in Little Red Riding Hood. After a while we made fun of him.  When he asked what a story was about, someone would say, “The conflict between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat” and we would all chortle. That was a sign of our immaturity.  He was an brilliant and kind man.  When I read to him he would ask me what I thought a passage meant.  One time I said, “It’s about the conflict between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat.” He looked down and said, “Cut the bullsh*t and tell me what you think.”  After that I did. I learned a great deal from him–our reading sessions were more like tutorials.

Anyhow, near the end of August, 1966, I found myself on board an Air France Boeing 707, the Chateau de Chenonceau. It was my first airplane flight and it was a good one. I still have the menu for the meal here some place.  No doubt I’ll find it some day.

Going back to France makes me think of all the changes that have occurred in the past 45 years. I finished two degrees, bought three houses (not all at once), got married, taught school for 32 years, helped raise two children. Not a bad life, that.

I’ll be interested to see how much Europe has changed.  I know I’ve lost a lot of my French, but we’ll see. When I was in Paris there were about eight Metro lines.  Today there are about sixteen with four express lines running through the city. And you know? I can hardly wait to get back. I’ll try to update this every daya nd let you know how it is going. Au revoir for now.

The room where I write these posts is the reclaimed bedroom of our older daughter Amy who has been gone from the house since 1999.  We called it “Amy’s old bedroom” for years and have switched over to calling it “the computer room” since that’s where our main computer is located. It’s on the second floor of our three-level house, which has a walk-out basement so that computer room is about thirty feet in the air. In the summer, what is mostly visible from the two windows are oak trees, which fill the windows with green.

I spend a lot of time in this room, writing and scoring SAT essays eight times during the school year. I especially enjoy it during the summer. I bring up some tower fans from the basement to draw cool air from the main level. It’s a comfortable and airy place to write. Nacho the cat likes to lie in the open window facing the street especially when the sun streams in. Cats are no fools.

I think of a couple of poems when I’m in this room.  One is “The Writer” by contemporary poet Richard Wilbur who not incidentally was my freshman composition teacher if you can believe that. The poem is about his daughter writing with a typewriter in an upper room. It begins:

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story. 

It's a graceful and thoughtful poem. If you want to read the rest, and I would recommend you do so, it's available at

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15487.

The other poem the computer room puts me in mind of is the well-known English major favorite “The Garden” by Andrew Marvell.  In the piece, the poet describes his garden and experiences a kind of seventeenth century out-of-body experience as he is overwhelmed by the beauty and power of the garden:

Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less,
Withdraws into its happiness :
The mind, that ocean where each kind
Does straight its own resemblance find ;
Yet it creates, transcending these,
Far other worlds, and other seas ;
Annihilating all that’s made
To a green thought in a green shade.

That’s just part of the poem: the rest is available at http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/garden.htm.

So, for today, a little poetry and a wish that you have your own “green retreat” and spend some time there soon.