And Gutenberg Lived Here: TV or Not TV: The Case For Training Farriers.

Every morning my husband and I put on the coffee,

and the stand -up- the -spoon

super black


plunk ourselves down in front of the tube,

and watch the news for a quarter of an hour or so.

Or used to

At the moment

here in Gutenberg Land,

the “news”

is available as:



the RTL private stations,

based  in Luxembourg and more entertainment based than anything else-

think National Enquirer as film clips on a screen,

and the German government regulated-

(by committee of all major forces

ie political party, churches, education, etc)

first and second networks.

The result,  for us, is that we laugh more than we learn.

This morning, for example,

CNN spent a lot of time talking about the White House chef’s chief fear-

in this world of poisonings,


stolen data,

that the new President  prefers KFC, McDonalds, and well-done steak-

I wish I had his problems-

the BBC is in the middle of a story about the world’s most influential people-

all under thirty years old-

don’t I seem to remember something like that from John Lennon?-

John Lennon ?

You know-

the Beatles

The Beatles?-

Sorry, you have to be over thirty to understand the remark-

And then there is Radio Television Luxembourg-

featuring an interview with a woman who feels her biological clock

is ticking,-

I hate to mention this, folks, but everyone’s biological clock is ticking-

a bit faster every day of our lives-

and that a five-year old ran away from kindergarten because he was bored, and took a

train back to his mama.

Personally, I think the kid deserves a medal for finding a tram that is actually running on


For that alone,  he deserves a spot at the local university.

Maybe they could borrow a booster seat from the local movie house.

And, of course, the German national tv is worried,

or not,

that Angie is running again,


more important,

brings continual up-to-the-minute standby  reports that:


the pilots of Lufthansa,

the national carrier,

are threatening another  strike.

We haven’t slept in over five years, here in Gutenberg land,

due to the constant upping of the number of “essential” plane travel trips to Asia-

in the middle of the night.

But now that Lufthansa could actually start losing money,

and we might be actually able to sleep one single night-

although, the actual flight-cancelling worry

is much more about daytime

than nighttime,

the Lufthansa biggies,


are doing  a major boogaloo-

Boogaloo ?

For anyone out there under thirty-

you can surely find an explanatiion for boogaloo

at some museum.

Or in a


dictionary from thirty years ago-

to be found cheap-

at a flea market-

or book fair-

0r, like we did,

inherit one-

a dictionary, I mean-

Ours is from 1920.

I love reading in it.

Amazing the knowledge that has gone lost.

And is still useful,

like when you have neither butter nor oil in the house,

but have whipping cream,

you can put in a bottle,

and hand it  to your husband or one of the kids

to shake for a few minutes

to make butter,

and fry your heart out.

Butter ?


(It’s only for when your  mother-in-law visits

and you had the whipped cream any way

since you can’t feed a German mother-in-law without cake with  whipped cream.)

Oh, and a second use of the dictionary-

beyond putting it under a wobbly chair-

try that with an online dictionary-

you can use it to actually save about fifty to one hundred bucks

fixing the strap on a large leather book bag,

using an article about, and for,

draft wagon drivers-

that’s people who drive  dog, pony, or horse wagons,

and used to,

if they didn’t buy them from harness makers,

make their own  reigns…

and harnesses…

and book bags?

My favorite shop over here

is a guy so old,

he can fix anything.


We actually have a record player.

And 33 rpm records.

Jan and Dean take Linda surfing.

Hey, it was really hot back when I was a pre-teen.

And I’ve sock-hopped to Help Me Rhonda,

It was a teen-age wedding-c’est la vie,

and wipe out,

so there.

And when you think that,


you may have to play by manually turning the wheel,

and holding the needle in your fingers…

while opening your mouth for the sound to come out…

Which, now that I think about it,

like pianist in a movie house,

or calliope player on a river boat-

may one day be such rare trades,

and the only way to do such things,

you will have to pay at least two hundred the hour

for a specialist.

And when that day comes-

us whackos with the 1920’s dictionaries under the armpits,

fingers clutching a diamond needle,

and mouth open,

to let the sound out,

are going to be laughing at all of you.

So there.

copyright 2017


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