Le jour des morts

I don't know how you say that in another language. It's just that it's not at the same date anywhere. I keep believing it is very strange to "celebrate" the dead. In France it's 1st November and in Germany it's the last sunday before Advent (you know when you have your special calendar with all those little doors you open everyday to get the chocolate (or whatever else, depends on your imagination if you do it yourself to offer to someone or if you buy the cheap version at the supermarket). Not to mention though that I don't need to be reminded by the calendar that at this very day I have to think to my dead family, relatives, friends. First I think about them very often and because they are burried in many parts of the world it's hard to schedule for one day to honour them in front of the grave. Either you pay some services company to do the job for the cleaning and the flowers or someone you know leaving nearby can help. It's not unrespectful it's just that I don't get the purpose of honouring a stone. People I deeply miss are always with me anywhere anytime and I don't see them "Six feet under" at the cemetery.

That's why the program yesterday at the Philarmonie was anything but happy : Frank Martin (Hugo von Hofmannsthal's six monologues) and the 7th Symphonie of Bruckner. But the big surprise of this concert was the danish baritone Bo Skovhus. The least we can say is that this giant has an impressive presence on the scene, physically and with his voice. I compared him as a singing black monolith. All in black dressed with some designed very straight japanese suit he is taller than anyone on the scene. His face is so concentrated during the act that you have the feeling it hurts. And the voice : I think it's the first time I hear a baritone even louder than the orchester... and it was no menuet. Of course it was very sad but quality wise very good. The fans were there and he had to come back 3 times to calm down the standing ovation with the flowers (it's OK with the subject, no?) and applause. And it only last 17 minutes (his part, not the standing ovation). I guess because of the hard work of the voice it must be difficult to sing more than that. It's also the first time that I see a singer seating among us to follow the rest of the concert with his friends and be so friendly with everyone. Respect !

After that we definitly needed a drink, of course. Don't forget it was saturday evening. But my friend needed as well to pick up the Christmas presents her mother bought at the department store. So a bit of window shopping and then the marathon started. Loaded with all the big heavy bags we dropped all this to his place and finally went to Himmelreich. It's near his place and cosy. Because it started to snow again we did not want to go very far and they have a not too bad spanish red wine. It is a lesbian bar but it's opened to everyone except when indicated (special nights, follow the program). All mixed, lesbian - gay - straight - families - dogs, nice service, prices OK, good music it's a good place to start. While talking I said that I had to try to drink beer. It's my big issue : I don't like that and never drink any. It's a problem in a country like Germany and I'm making (again) my distinction with it. At least any bar-keeper remembers me because I'm the only one who's asking red wine in a disco (avoid) ! But why not trying a new time ? My friend told me that last time he took a very light one with lemon. After a 1 € pizza slice to "sponge" the alcohol we moved to a men's place : Grosse Freiheit. It's very smoky, almost completely dark, very casual but I like the place because you make your own musical program thanks to the giant juke box and you can play flipper. It reminds me of school days at the café round the corner with friends. It's when we started to smoke and drink and look at the but of ... whatever. But I can say a bottle of beer in the hand, the cigarette on the lips playing flipper, you get the picture ! But unfortunatly I can't drink it. So I gave the bottle and was back to wine. Not to mention as well that to go to the toilets you have to cross the darkroom. I can't see a thing in those places but while trying to reach them (not even sure there are any for women !) I suddenly faced a cute guy. Smiling at him I carried on walking and... bumped abruptly in a mirror ! I said it was time to go to bed.