You may be wondering if my 7-month holiday from blogging was caused by some major upheaval or trauma. Rest assured, nothing much has changed. I am still residing in the heart of Europe, fighting the good fight against the inexorable slide into Euro-English.
My lodger McChe is still in residence, despite several attempts to trick him into living somewhere else. Like mildew. After a while you just learn to live with it. I keep taking him on holiday in hopes of leaving him on the side of the road somewhere. But like an abandoned cat, he always manages to find his way home.
I'm still tinging Bert's triangle for the KNOB*, although I wonder for how much longer. Since Bert's departure, the orchestra has fallen into disarray. There has been a degree of laissez-aller, nay dare I say it, total negligence. Most un-German. The horn section has gone to pot - hence we were booted out of Euroompah!2011 in Athens, in ignominous fashion. A timely lesson that needed to be learned. My nose is clean - my ting is always pristine and punctual. But it was time for a new baton, and now we have got one. The KNOB has taken a leaf out of the IMF's book and has nominated a WOMAN leader. No, not me - it has to be someone who can read music. Our new leader is Waltraud von Klampwangler, Wally to her friends, a Rhine maiden of formidable presence who wields her baton like a rapier, and looks much better in lederhosen than any of them. I for one welcome our new overlady, and have dusted off my gay umbrella to show her I'm quite open minded. Some of the old farts don't like it of course - Dietrich made a rude noise on his euphonium the first time she stepped up to the podium, and Fritzi deliberately pretended he couldn't hear her instructions, whereupon she sent him off to have his ears syringed. She doesn't take any prisoners.
My lodger McChe is still in residence, despite several attempts to trick him into living somewhere else. Like mildew. After a while you just learn to live with it. I keep taking him on holiday in hopes of leaving him on the side of the road somewhere. But like an abandoned cat, he always manages to find his way home.
I'm still tinging Bert's triangle for the KNOB*, although I wonder for how much longer. Since Bert's departure, the orchestra has fallen into disarray. There has been a degree of laissez-aller, nay dare I say it, total negligence. Most un-German. The horn section has gone to pot - hence we were booted out of Euroompah!2011 in Athens, in ignominous fashion. A timely lesson that needed to be learned. My nose is clean - my ting is always pristine and punctual. But it was time for a new baton, and now we have got one. The KNOB has taken a leaf out of the IMF's book and has nominated a WOMAN leader. No, not me - it has to be someone who can read music. Our new leader is Waltraud von Klampwangler, Wally to her friends, a Rhine maiden of formidable presence who wields her baton like a rapier, and looks much better in lederhosen than any of them. I for one welcome our new overlady, and have dusted off my gay umbrella to show her I'm quite open minded. Some of the old farts don't like it of course - Dietrich made a rude noise on his euphonium the first time she stepped up to the podium, and Fritzi deliberately pretended he couldn't hear her instructions, whereupon she sent him off to have his ears syringed. She doesn't take any prisoners.
