In which he reflects on a recent event

Yesterday it was my birthday
I hung one more year on the line
I should be depressed
My life's a mess
But I'm having a good time

Paul Simon, "Have a good time" from Still crazy after all these years

Indeed.

I've had most of this year week (Freudian slip?) off, Monday was a holiday and G and U have both caught miserable summer colds; however, bear in mind that "having the week off" means working just as many hours at home on the database. To be honest, I've enjoyed it greatly, I would be happy to abandon architecture if and when I could actually earn a living from the database.

Yesterday was a fine day, sunny and warm (mid-twenties), clear blue sky with a gentle breeze. The holunder is blooming all over town, the smell is nearly as intoxicating as the lilacs a few weeks back. I walked downtown to a nameless square and had breakfast (café au lait, croissants, boiled egg, ham and cheese) under the spreading chestnut tree, watching the swallows and the pedestrians perform tricks for my amusement (it's all a matter of finding the right attitude.)

Walking on from there into town, I decided to seize the opportunity and visit the Kunstmuseum for the first time, 15 months after it opened. Only half of the museum (the permanent collection) was open, they were installing a new exhibition which opens tomorrow. The collection is indeed based on local artists, which I think is a Very Good Thing. I feel that most musea render themselves useless and mittelmässig by trying to show the exact same cross-section of art-history that one sees in any other museum on the planet: Picasso? check. Warhol? check. Rothko? check. Pollock? check. Dali? yawn, check. Really, who cares? Show me stuff that I can see nowhere else, and then I'll be happy. Nobody would travel to Stuttgart to see one Jeff Koons, but people might travel here to see a whole room full of Baumeisters.

But what do I know?

   Flowers for my birthday from U.

(I've just noticed something interesting: the song "Night game" features on bass one Tony Levin. I saw a bassist named Tony Levin on stage with King Crimson a few years ago, call it thirty years after this (Paul Simon's) album was recorded. It's the same guy, I just found his website. I am somehow pleased that he's still making music. Reminds me of my favourite moment in Breakfast at Tiffany's, where Holly and the nameless hero/narrator take a toy ring in for engraving; the man behind the counter examines it gravely and asks, "I believe this was not purchased here?" Holly replies with equal gravity, "No, we found it in a box of Crackerjacks." He gives her a wry smile and says, "Are there still prizes in boxes of Crackerjacks? I find that very reassuring." Quoted from memory, feel free to correct me.)

Anyway. The day went well. I had a pleasant lunch in the museum's rooftop restaurant, watching the clouds drift past, then home for a few e-mails and a long phone call with an old friend who generously forgives my long uncommunicative lapses. I'll leave the obverse side of the coin for another post.