My name is Michael...

If you don't have a friend that can talk you out of buying a new truck you need to get one.

The Yellow Dog is in the shop and it's going to cost a couple of bucks to get her back on her feet... and Ford's offering 0% financing for 72 months... and those new trucks look magnificent. They're safer. They get twice the gas mileage of the Dog. They have four doors. They ride smooth and have plenty of power. The windows completely seal. The AC works. The stereo plays out of all the speakers. My neighbors wouldn't cringe everytime I drove past their houses if I drove a new truck.

The divine Mrs. L and my good friend Kevin talked me down off the ledge. I think the worst of it has passed... but I've got to go back to the dealership to pick up the Dog tomorrow. The trucks will be there... shining, clean, good looking. I don't know if I'll ever get over this... maybe I should start introducing myself as a recovering truckaholic.

A glimpse of European fashion

If clothing fashion in the US generally follows European clothing fashion then I am about to drop some fashion revelation in your lap.

Soon, the fashionable American male will be wearing his necktie in a whole new way. The tie itself will be slightly wider and have a more firm inner structure than today's ties. But the most important thing is how the tie is tied. In today's traditional style the front of the tie begins with a windsor knot at the collar and ends on or near the waistline. In the near future, the fashionable American tie will begin with a windsor knot at the collar and end only an inch or two below the knot. The knot itself is four or five inches wide because the knot is made from the part of the tie that would traditionally be near the belly button of the wearer and is tied very loosely. Apparently the younger and more fashionable the man, the shorter the tie. Be prepared.

The second interesting fashion revelation is capri pants. You may be saying to yourself, "There's nothing new about capri pants. My wife has several pairs of these and she's been wearing them for years." These aren't just for wives and daughters anymore. Fashionable European men were wearing all manner of capri pants. Yes. MEN! Males, anyway. If I ever was on the fashion train (not likely) I'm clearly not anymore because I can't imagine a scenario in which I'd willingly wear capri pants in public.

Don't cancel your subscription to GQ because I don't expect I'll be sharing fashion advice after this post. But when you're wearing pants that show your ankles and your tie looks like a five year old tied it for you... remember that I warned you.

Once again, to rest in the downy bosom of Texas

I am ready for some Texas.

I've never really believed Jon Bon Jovi to be a genius but if he's the one who first said "You don't know what you've got till it's gone" then his stock just doubled in my mind. If someone else said it first and he just used it... then he's just another millionaire "has been." Either way, the phrase has great value.

The good doctor and I have been speaking in almost reverent tones of the Mexican food, the barbecue, the free drink refills that are so often taken for granted in the Lone Star state. We've decided that when we get back we're eating at the first Pappasitos or On the Border that we see. I hope the salsa is so hot my eyes water and my nose runs.

We can't wait to get into our big American cars and drive wherever we want. In Texas, we've got huge, wide highways and plenty of room. In England we had to take the underground, the train or the bus and going 45 miles could take a couple of hours. The other thing... gas cost about $8 a gallon in Europe. I feel like a serious bargain hunter when I only pay $2.89 a gallon. I might even buy a tank full of premium for the Yellow Dog.

We've missed the television. I know that seems silly but in England we only got five stations. Four of them were the BBC. The citizens of the UK pay about $400 per year per television set to support the BBC. On the one hand, there are no commercials on the BBC. On the other hand, there doesn't have to be any commercial appeal for a show to get on the air. If you've read my earlier posts you may recall my mention of the hit show "Only Fools on Horses." Yeah... socialism seems like such a good idea until it's actually put into practice.

We've enjoyed our visit to this funny little country. It's hard to imagine that at one point in world history England had colonies on almost every continent. I guess they were searching for some good food.

Last Days

Today is our last day in Oxford. We're off to London tomorrow and we'll fly home over the weekend. I'm looking back over the last five weeks and here is a quick overview of what I've observed.

The English have an ill-founded superiority complex and are generally unfriendly.

This is likely due to the fact that their food is terrible. Or maybe because their country is so crowded that you can never be where other people are not. Or maybe it's residual bitterness over the fact that they used to rule the world... and now they don't.

The Welsh seem more friendly, but it's probably only in comparison to the English.

This is likely due to the fact that their food is not as bad as English food. Or maybe because their country isn't nearly as crowded. Or maybe it's because they never really ruled anything and if an English king hadn't sent his pregnant queen to Wales to give birth they wouldn't even be a country anymore.

The Germans are much more friendly than either the Welsh or the English.

This is likely due to the fact that they have great food and they aren't stacked up on top of each other like the English. Maybe also, the fact that they are experiencing a period of growth and healing after two World Wars and a particularly devastating Cold War. Reunited... and it feels so good.

The French are as friendly as the Germans and didn't exhibit any of the anticipated arrogance.

This is likely due to the fact that they all eat pastries and drink wine all day long. They aren't as burly as the Germans... but burly isn't necessarily a positive descriptor for a nation's women so maybe that's another reason the French are so pleasant.

Bon jour, gay Paris!

We've just returned from a short stay in Paris... and I'm happy to tell you that the Eiffel Tower is still standing.

If you've never been to Paris you might not be able to grasp how that city is completely lousy with historic monuments and gilded statues and huge buildings. I don't want to hear one more comment about "American excess." Seriously, we'd be walking down a Rue de Something or other and there would be some 40 foot tall golden woman waving a sword and holding an infant and standing on a lion's neck and I'd ask Susan... "what's that?" and she'd have no idea. The fact that I had no idea what it was is no shock to anyone who's reading this... but that Susan would have no idea indicates that this particular piece of statuary didn't make the Top 300 Things to See in Paris.

We had just a few days so there's no possible way could see any more than a tiny fraction of all that Paris holds. We saw the Eiffel Tower, of course. If you are like me (heaven forbid) you thought the Eiffel Tower was black. Wrong. It's a medium brown. Something near the color of a Starbucks Mocha Latte. Not the creamy part but the coffee part. Right now it's got a series of small, white strobe lights covering it and after dark they... well, they sparkle. (I intended to never use the word "sparkle" in this blog but there's clearly no way around it.) Anyway, it was beautiful and the good Dr. gave me a little kiss right there on the Parisian street while the lights twinkled (another word I didn't want to use) above us.

We also saw Notre Dame. The church has stood for years and has an incredible set of carvings of Jesus and saints and popes. The weather was scheduled to be rainy but the rain never came so the sky was beautiful and the old church was amazing. The gargoyles were interesting but so high off the ground that it was difficult to see them. The boys fed the pigeons and sparrows and I wandered off to look at a statue of Charlemagne that was sort of forgotten and almost hidden by some trees. From now on, when someone says "French military" I'm not going to think of Napoleon. I'm going to think of Charlemagne. That guy looked like a warrior. Beard, battleaxe, heavy sword, light armor. That's a former leader the French ought to bring up a little more often... and imitate, once in a while.

Of course we saw the Arc de Triomphe. We went at night and I personally considered it a Triomphe when we got across the busy roundabout without getting killed. The Arc is, like so much in Paris, huge. After the last couple of weeks in England, where everything looks like a scale model, the grandiosity of Paris is astonishing. The Arc looks about five stories tall and is very majestic. Napoleon must have been, not only short, but lacking in other substantial ways.

We also saw the Catacombs. Long ago, Parisians in a certain district were getting sick because they lived near a large cemetary. The groundwater was being contaminated by the decomposing bodies so the Parisians dug up all the bodies and dumped them in the empty limestone quarry underneath their fair city. These tunnels run below the subway, below the water and sewer systems. Sometime later, the P.T. Barnum of France went down into the catacombs and organized the millions of bones into some very rudimentary designs and began charging admission. Now, tourists pay good money to climb 30 meters down into these old quarries and walk among the bones of the departed. The signs ask you to be respectful of the dead buried here... but it's hard to take them seriously when they charged admission to the grotesque sight. If you've ever had the desire to see what must be the largest mass grave anywhere in the world, come to gay Paris!

I have to admit to a little bias here. I came to Paris expecting to see dirty streets, arrogant locals and a tremendous language barrier. I was wrong. In my experience, the Parisians were more friendly (not even counting the guys who hit on my lovely wife) than the British. Most of them worked harder to speak English and frankly, spoke better English than the British. The streets were dirty and grungy but not littered. Like everywhere else I've been in Europe they don't necessarily consider bathing a daily event but it wasn't much of an issue until we were crammed into the subway cars. Overall, Paris was a very interesting city and worth the trip. Just keep an eye out for pick pockets and wife-stealers.

"Let's plow."

The adorable Dr. Lewis, knowing of my disdain for cities and my love of countryside, planned for a weekend in the Kyffhauser Forest while we were in Germany. We stayed in Bad Frankenhausen (I enjoyed saying Bad Frankensusan) in a B&B that backed up to the forest.

As we considered what to do in and around this little city I, of course, wanted to hike in the woods. Susan chose to drive to Lauscha, where the glass Christmas tree ornament was invented and is still handmade. So, on a clear morning, after a breakfast with the yellow jackets, the divine Mrs. L dropped us off at the head of a trail that would lead us through the Kyffhauser Forest to the Kyffhauser monument, a magnificent tribute to Wilhelm I, the Fuhrer Kaiser of the First Reich.

As Susan drove away, the boys and I walked up the hill to the trail markers. I had some concern as I read the sign that told me it was 13.7 kilometers to the monument from where I was standing. That's about 8 1/2 miles. Yes. One way. And yes. Mountains.

Are the men of the Lewis family afraid of a little 17 mile walk in the woods? I said, "Come on, ladies. Let's plow." And off we went.

First, I didn't really know the conversion rate of klicks to miles so I really didn't know how far it was going to be. Second, I figured that if the boys got tired we could always turn around and head home. We headed off into the woods on the X8 trail.

Let me say that the Kyffhauser monument is stunning. The view from the top is unequaled. We ate a light lunch and refilled all our water bottles. I soaked the boy's shirts and wet their hair and we headed back. We talked about soldiers,German history, rocks, trees, self-esteem and all sorts of things that boys and dads enjoy discussing as they hike up and down mountains. We covered the ground and the boys didn't notice how far or how hard the hike was. Barrett said, "We just had a good time." We made the hike in 8 and 1/2 hours.

I don't think the boys have slept that good since we left their own beds in west Texas. They made me very, very proud. And now they know that they're stronger and tougher than they might've believed themselves to be before that hike.

Germany vs. Britain

The best preparation for a trip to Germany, ensuring the enjoyment of those travelling, is a visit to England first. Here's a point-by-point comparison.

When we beheld the complimentary breakfast buffet at our hotel in Wittenburg I got a little tear in my eye. It was a thing of beauty. Scrambled eggs, sausages, breads, fruits, yogurt, cereal, dark coffee... I still get a bit misty, remembering it. So, at the breakfast table, Germany beats Britain on ALL counts.

Germany's history notably includes Adolf Hitler, a fanatic genius and a dark spot in the German fabric by all accounts. Hitler exploited the image of the aryan perfection that he saw as the ideal German and tainted that wholesome, healthful standard. While a visitor to Britain sees lots of soft, pasty Brits, seemingly unconcerned with anything healthy, a visitor to Germany can see that health, nutrition and exercise are part of the German culture that reaches back past Hitler's era. Germany takes the second round.

The roads... England has the roundabout, Germany has the Autobahn. Germany in round three.

The cars... England gives us Vauxhall, MG, Jaguar, Aston-Martin, Lotus and of course, the venerable Land Rover. Germany gives us Porsche, VW, Mercedes, BMW and Audi. Now, Jaguar, Aston and Land Rover are all owned by Ford leaving a pretty slim offering from our British friends. Germany's automobile industry is robust and world renowned. Germany takes a split decision in the fourth round.

In the UK there has been an effective ban on gun ownership that is sickening to those of us who enjoy and value our firearms. In 1988 the British government passed the first of several Firearms acts that have resulted in the destruction of hundreds of thousands of guns and accessories. Germany is home to several well-respected gun manufacturers... and I saw deer blinds in every field I passed. Germany leaves Britain behind in the fifth and takes the match.

I hate to have dragged you all the way through this thing but you might have doubted me if I said I was convinced the minute I saw that breakfast buffet.

Unter den Linden

Our visit to Germany started and ended in Berlin, a city of 3.5 million. The city had a fascinating role in the Cold War as the most conspicuous example of East versus West. The wall is down now and the city has worked wonders to bring the former poverty and dilapidation of the east up to modern standards. Roads have been built. Buildings have been renovated and parks and monuments have been restored. The linden trees leading to the Brandenburg gate, originally planted in the 1600's and destroyed in WWII were replanted. The holocaust memorial sits on a busy corner that used to be a vacant lot adjacent to the wall in East Berlin. We saw all kinds of historic buildings and famous places. We took our pictures at Checkpoint Charlie. We saw the Reichstag and the buildings of the GDR, the dreaded East German secret police. We saw the building that had been the Ministry of Propaganda during the height of the Third Reich. The hooks that held the Nazi flags are still in the walls of the building.

As we strolled down Unter den Linden (literally, Under the Linden trees) we encountered a demonstration against Israel's action in Lebanon and the US support of Israel. The demonstrators were carrying signs accusing Bush of being the world's #1 terrorist. Some of them shouted anti-Israeli and anti-USA chants. Some of them waved Lebanese flags. Some of them waved their fists and looked very hateful. I held my children close and kept my eyes open.

I believe that Lebanon is not in complete control of Hezbollah. I believe that Hezbollah is being given safe harbor in Lebanon and that the Lebanese government would like to see Israel destroyed. I believe that there are Lebanese civilians who might also like to see Israel destroyed but much, much more... would just like to live peaceful lives and see their children grow.

The irony of standing on a street in Berlin, a city once nearly destroyed by an intolerant anti-semite and now, years later, rebuilding and trying to heal, watching people galvanize their intolerance for my country and her allies, was extremely powerful.

I wish for them, life and peace. They wish for me, death and loss. Wonder why we can't seem to get along?