The past couple of weeks have been quite a bit of fun, and also quite exciting.

Last week we popped over to Vienna for an unhurried day of shopping. There never seems to be enough time to adequately explore the Dorotheum, so that was one of our objectives. The Dorotheum is, well, a pawn shop. But not like any pawn shop you've ever seen. Crystal and oil paintings and old oriental rugs compete for your attention with fabulous furniture, room after room of fine jewelry, and delicate porcelins. We walked there from the City Terminal (which is where the busses dump you after the ride from the airport; it is located adjacent to Ringstraße), stopping only to make lunch reservations at the Hungarian Kings, our favorite restaurant in this magnificent old city. We poked into endless rooms filled with perfectly organized treasure until lunchtime, then we retraced our steps to the Kings.

No sense looking at the menu; there is only one dish there that I order without fail: tafelspitz. Elequantly served from a special cart by a waiter who never seems to forget a face--he's been there 23 years--tafelspitz consists of the tenderest meats long-simmered in a flavorful broth. Strictly speaking, tafelspitz is a specific cut of meat from the region of the shoulder. This meat is encased in own "skin", permitting none of the juices to escape. But Viennese tafelspitz adds tongue so fine and tender it cannot be properly remembered, and so must be re-ordered on subsequent trips. The waiter will serve you as much as you like, happy to see you enjoy this unique dish. A fine glass of Niederoesterreich wine didn't discourage us from topping the meal with Sambuca for me and Bailey's for Andrea. We ordered no desert, but this is not an allowable option in Vienna, so they bought us a small cake dusted with confectioner's sugar whether we wanted it or not. Only strong coffee kept me from falling asleep on the spot.

Back to the Dorotheum for round 2 and before we knew it, it was time for us to slowly amble back to the City Terminal. We shopped our way slowly and carefully, seeking only the unusual: a thirteenth century crossbow, a medieval church relic. We suddenly ran out of time, and had to run to the subway to get to the terminal in time to catch the last plane back to St. Gallen, Switzerland.

Skiing a couple of days later was a real treat. It was warm enough to discard gloves, but the snow was butter soft. We happily plowed back and forth, then retired to the restaurant terrace on top of the mountain to listen to a good live band and drink hot chocolate laced with rum and topped with whipped cream. I tried a bit of skiing after that, but two more long runs were enough for me. I hobbled back to the bar while Andrea skied the mountain flat.

Back in the workaday world, we got a satisfying two year contract signed with Rheintalflug, our biggest client. Our deal allows us to create, sell, and place advertising on their website, in addition to maintaining, translating, and updating their website. They fly us around for whatever sales calls we make, and arrange for overnight accomodations if necessary. We keep 100% of the revenue for the first set amount of income generated, and after that we split the income with them 50-50. This is quite exciting, as we are the sole agents for Rheintalflug and can sell as much as we wish.

But the best part is, we were highly recommended to Bregenz Marketing, and we will begin working on their web site in three or four weeks. Going back to the States in May represents no problem; we can work on our accounts from there. Rheintalflug and Bregenz Marketing (marketing the city of Bregenz to the world) probably represent the top two internet accounts in the land. Needless to say, we are quite proud to strut our stuff.

We have a new tradition underway.  Every Friday morning the city's open-air market comes to life, with vendors selling produce, fresh meats, breads, home made sausages, and flowers from their booths.  I buy roses for Andrea and lug the shopping bags around.  She looks great holding an armful of flowers and I look exactly right with a sackful of sausage.  We prepare the roses when we get home, and they seem to last for well over a week.  To make them last, we remove the bottom leaves (of course), scrape their stem-skins like  carrots (the part that'll be under water), re-cut the stems with a sharp knife, and immerse them in a solution of sugared water.  Try it!

What do you think? E-mail us and let us know.

March 3, 2000

Decisions feel good even when they're wrong, I think.  Last week we made some lifestyle decisions and took steps to put our plan into action.

There are certain things we love about Asheville, especially in the summer and fall.  Our garden is beautiful, and fun to tend.  Our home high atop a mountain is peaceful and quiet, only yards away from the Blue Ridge Parkway.  There, we are often visited by the local wildlife . . . and by good friends, too.  Need I describe the glories of the Blue Ridge Mountains in October?

But it is a pain in the patoot in the winter.  Cold and icy without the relief of winter sports of any consequence.  Bregenz, on the other hand, is in some ways at its best in the winter.  The skiing is spectacular, and the whole area radiates with a certain internal warmth.  The way we see it, one should winter at one extreme or the other; either on a tropical beach or in an area that is fully prepared for--no, that embraces--the winter months.

So we are once again doing everything backwards.  Wintering in the snow.

We spoke to our landlady, because we didn't want to give up our nice apartment.  She agreed to lower the expensive summer rates to the year-round rate that we are paying now so that we can hold on to the apartment all year.  This allowed us to add a couple of luxuries that we had been doing without, since we knew we were keeping the place:  a big screen high-resolution TV, a VCR that accepts PAL and NTSC formats, a microwave oven, new towels.  Our landlady will watch over the place and water the plants in our absense, and knowing her, she'll have the place spic and span for our return.

Another nice thing about this plan is that if we want to zoom over here for a couple-three weeks in late summer for the Festspiele, for example, we have our place all set up and ready to go.

That left only the car, since our work on the Internet can be done anywhere in the world.  We visited Herr Shifferer today, the owner of the BMW dealerships in this area.  Cars depreciate about 20% during the ifrst year, and based on that, we reached an agreement where we pay 1.8% of the value of whatever car he selects for us, per month, for the six months that we are here.  He picks it out and is responsible for the service.  We let him know when we are coming, and he gives us a key when we get here.  Our alternative--to keep the car we have--was okay too, but I really like this deal.

So there you have it.  May thru October in North Carolina, November thru April in Austria.  This decision certainly doesn't feel wrong.

What do you think? E-mail us and let us know.

February 14 (Valentine's Day), 2000

Today Thomas Klestil, Austria's President (no, not like our president--the office of President (which is largely administrative) is separated from the office of Bundeschancellor (which is similar to the office of the Prime Minister)) signed the FPO-ÖVP coalition into law at 12:00 noon, local time.  The Israeli ambassador instantly left the country, Jews are screaming about Nazis, American girls are tearfully protesting "stop Haider before it's too late!"

Absolute nonsense.

In 1991, Haider, the leader of the Freedom Party, or FPO, opined that Hitler had an orderly employment policy.  Later that same year, he said that many of the SS officers were themselves victimized, and were often loyal soldiers.  In fact, Hitler's employment efficiencies are irrefutable and an open topic of discussion at universities worldwide.  And as my dad points out, Mussolini made the trains run on time, too.  Inarguable.  I'll add this, too:  When Hitler rose to power, it was during the depths of the Great Depression.  Most of central Europe was unemployed, had no social support, and no chance of education.  Hitler made a deal with Mussolini that German-speaking people who resided in South Tirol (a section of northern Italy granted to Italy following WWI) were welcome to return to "greater Germany" (which included Austria) where they were guaranteed good housing, education, work, and social assistance.  Hitler did what he promised.  I am living amidst the housing that he provided for the displaced Tiroleans . . . and it's quite respectable.

Does my saying this make me a Nazi?  Do I condone the holocaust?  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Hitler proved a worthy adversary to the Allies not because he was evil, but because he was in some respects a capable leader.  Was he a bad man?  The worst!  Do Austrians know this?  No one is named Adolph to this day.  Unfortunate older people who carry the moniker are called "Phloda", which is Adolph backwards--more or less.  Do Austrians hate Jews?  Minorities?  Women?  My personal observation is that this is the least-rascist country I have ever visited.

So what's all the stuff in the papers and on TV?  Judge for yourself.  I have watched the speeches delivered by the FPO, I have watched the process unfold.  I know what he has said and continues to say and believe me, this is NOT what is being reported in the American press, which I also read every day.  I see words taken out of context, I hear statements misrepresented.  I promise you, you are being once again duped by the liberal media.  The Austrians democratically elected an economically conservative party into office after more than 40 years of socialist domination, and Americans are screaming about it.  The EU requires certain financial standards; among them, a reduction in welfare.  The FPO represents a logical economic step in this direction, nothing more.  We seem to believe in democratic principles as long as everyone votes our way.

Don't believe the shallow emotional crap that you are seeing on TV and reading in your newspapers.  Fascism is not alive and well in Austria.

Enough preaching.  It is a splendid, sunny day and I am going to drive with Andrea to Germany for a change of scenery.  Skiing as usual on the weekend, and back to normal by next week.  Hopefully.

February 4, 2000

Snow the size of dimes and nickels, holding hands to fall together like paper plates.  Snowflakes you can see from a block away.  Look up to get lost in the dizzying flurries and you can pick them out fifty feet in the air and catch them on your tongue like memories of youth.  There is a "snow" taste to snow that is a little bit dusty, a little bit old.

When I was a kid snow looked as soft as it sounded until we parked on Michigan Avenue in East Lansing to buy my first pair of glasses.  We walked out into the fresh snow and Oh! No! the snow was not a "thing" anymore, like some kind of loosly woven nebular blanket.  It was a composition of discreet particles falling and swirling in minor harmonies.  Sometimes I take my glasses off to watch the snow and remember, but I can't see it anymore with eyes that know no difference.

We drove to St. Gallen, Switzerland this morning to look at wedding dresses with Gitti.  For male readers of this website, take this advice:  do it.  Take anyone who will have you and spend a cold morning in the biggest wedding gown store you can find.  You will be the only male there, and the women will be much too busy to pay any attention to you at all.  At first, they hide behind their curtains, but soon they are assisted by saleswomen who lift this and tuck that and before you know it, you are surrounded by new brides changing in and out of things with utter disregard for your presence.  Come to think of it, I suppose it is a little sad that they don't pay any attention, but on the other hand, it is like a fantasy come true:  you are suddenly Invisible Man and you have wandered into the world's largest dressing room.

Rheintalflug, our biggest Words 'R' Us client, is on the air.  We are live, and every page is ours, German and English.  Hundreds of files, more hundreds of graphics, and a lot of database access make this a fine accomplishment.  At 6:40 yesterday evening, I decided to just do it and replace the old site with our new stuff.  It's an odd feeling, and since last night hundreds of people have viewed our work and have hopefully been satisfied by it.

A official opening to attend tonight, with the Mayor and lots of dignitaries.  We'll have some good food and better wine, and talk and dance and have our pictures taken.  Should be fun.  And this snow will have us skiing in powder up to our fannies tomorrow.

Read an earlier newsletter

January 22, 2000