May, 1995 (continued): A few days after returning from Colombia, I left for another of my rather grueling trips to Germany. (Typically what happens is I am booked to speak at some event there, and then a number of German stations arrange for me to work with their air staffs while I’m nearby.)
The trip began with flights to Frankfurt and then on to Leipzig. The funniest line of the week was on the United Airlines flight to Frankfurt. A flight attendant asked what I wanted to drink, and I replied with the name of a carbonated mineral water, La Croix. I pronounced it the only way I’ve ever heard it pronounced: “La – Croy.”
“You mean ‘La Quah,’” he replied.
I told him that I don’t speak French, but I’d never heard that pronunciation.
“Well, one of the other flight attendants is French,” he said. “Let’s ask her.”
So I said to the second flight attendant, “We’re having an argument here. How do you pronounce ‘La Croix’ in French?”
And she immediately replied, “Perrier.”
In Leipzig I was met by Andy Schneider of Antenne Thüringen, a radio station in Weimar, about an hour’s drive from Leipzig. Naturally, I had been looking forward to the opportunity to exchange world views with someone from a culture quite different than my own. So what did we talk about for most of the drive? The O.J. Simpson trial. (Everyone I met, around the world, was familiar with the trial. And all were amazed at Americans’ apparent obsession with it.)
Andy did, however, introduce me to a bit of local jargon: alter hase, which translates to “old rabbit” — i.e., an “old pro.”
Several people told me that Weimar is an excellent example of a typical eastern-German town, and given its rich cultural history (home of Goethe; Johann Sebastian Bach was choirmaster of the local church) I was looking forward to spending the afternoon casually walking around. (One sight I did not plan to take in was the remnants of the nearby Buchenwald concentration camp.)
Exhausted from the trip (a 11-hour flight between Los Angeles and Frankfurt, a 1-hour flight to Leipzig, a 1-hour car ride to Weimar), I lay down for an hour’s nap…and I could not get up. Believe me, I tried. I struggled, but I could throw off the weight of sleep. My hour’s nap last for four hours, and I did not do any sightseeing or wandering.
Usually I do very little socializing on these trips. When not conducting a seminar, I’m either working in my hotel room, sleeping, or heading back to yet another airport. So when Andy invited me to his home for dinner, my automatic response was politely to decline.
But his invitation was hard for me to resist: I’d be joining him and a couple of other radio people (including Antenne Thüringen PD Stephan Halfpap) for a barbecue…and then we’d watch a championship boxing match on television.
On the exceptionally rare occasions when I entertain at home, I invariably barbecue. And on the rare occasions when I watch a sporting event on TV, it’s only to watch a world-class boxing event. So….How could I resist?
Actually, I resisted the temptation to stay for the boxing match and instead watched it in my hotel room where, as soon as the fight ended, I was able immediately to go to bed and get the eight hours sleep that, alas, my weary body requires.
The barbecue was excellent, and the company was just what it should be: a few radio guys sitting around, eating, drinking beer (well, Diet Coke for me), telling radio stories.
I’m guessing the boxing match was televised in the United States, too. It was a championship for one of the middleweight divisions (these days there are so many it’s impossible to keep track of).
It was a very big sports event in Germany, not just because two Germans were fighting for a championship but also because of the contrast of the opponents.
Henry Maske & Graziano Rocchigiani
The champion was Henry Maske, “the gentleman boxer,” admired by all. His opponent was nicknamed Rocky (Graziano Rocchigiani), and he was rough-and-tumble, brash, flashy…the complete opposite of Maske.
It was a very good fight; Maske won.
The reason I assume it was televised in the U.S. is that the ring announcer was Michael Buffer, who usually announces the big fights on HBO.
He’s the guy who ends the introductions by intoning that ridiculous incantation, “Luhhhh-ets get ready to RUMMMMMMMMM-BUL!” And then, of course, the crowd erupts into mindless screaming and foot-stomping.
Apparently the Germans in the crowd (the fight was held in Germany) didn’t know their I.Q.s were supposed to drop when they heard the word “rumble”…and there was complete silence when Buffer was done. Serves him right. I hope he still has nightmares about it.
Next Installment: My 4-hour train ride with a bunch of drunken skinheads.
Meanwhile, for you international fight fans…The last 3 rounds of a very good boxing match.
