My Drunken Blog

Awww, how proud we all must be, we happy few, we band of drunken brothers. OK, so I'm not drunk, after my evening I wouldn't mind being, but I agreed to stay sober tonight, and I have to keep my word, because if Mr M and I end up arguing any more I'm going to have to be in a condition to drive home.

Anyway, re NaDruWriNi. You all knew the drill, because I told you Thursday. I wrote a blog last Saturday when I actually was drunk and stored it away, to be opened on this auspicious occasion. I just now did that. I'm starting to see what the subject matter is, and I really hope I can read my own handwriting.

OK. So I'm hedging. I'm a little worried about spilling this out, but here goes. My drunken blog.

Oh, by the way, I was supposed to tell you what I'm drinking, which was three Spatens and more shots of Goldschlager than I could possibly remember.

Let's All Conjure Up Some Hate!

Hi Folks -

It's Oct 29th, a Saturdy - as I write this. And I'm drunk. Let's make no mistake - I am drunk. Not tipsy, not cutely inebriated, I am drunk.

I've just played my last night of Oktoberfest. Oktoberfest is where we celebrate all things German. Or Bavarian, I should say. Men in lederhosen and girls in dirndls, German milkmaids, people who enjoy yodeling and drinking beer and hanging out celebrating life and having fun.

But here's the thing. Mr M has a joking saying about me - "you hate Nazis more than any person I've ever met." And he's probably right there. I do. I'm sure there may be people who were in concentration camps who have found it in their hearts to forgive their capturers and torturers. And here I am, a free woman who has never suffered torture under anything more than her own hand, and I hate Nazis more than anything on this earth. Nazis, neo-Nazis - I hate them all with every fiber of my being. Its probably what some would call "an unnatural hate," but to me, it's perfectly natural. It's healthy. It's normal. It's right.

Maybe that's why I'm so fascinated with Nazis. I love to watch anything having to do with Hitler, with World War II, with concentration camps, with Hitler Youth marcdhing around all puffed up with pride.

It must be the hate.

Or the wonderment - how a group of people can so hate another. So much so that their total annihalation is the only solution.

There's a running joke amongst us in SK Band. Every single performance, before our first waltz of the evening, Ed asks "What do Germans do during a waltz:" Of course the answer to that is schunkel, ie, sway back and forth - but to us in the band the joke answer to that is - "What do Germans do during a waltz? Invade Poland!" And other than that, well, save for our "Nazi Marching Version" of "Strangers In The Night" for birthdays and anniversaries, that's really the only "Nazi" thing about Oktoberfest. And that's all for fun anyway.

Except for this one night. It was my first year playing with SK Band. About 2/3 way through the season, the house was packed that night, and it was right after the march around, where the crowd links hands and marches a snaking line through th barn. A man came up to Ed and requested a certain song. And Ed got very excited and said - "we have that, we have that!" Then he called the number of that particular song, a march. We all got the music in front of us.

Ed then proceeded to introduce the song. And he did so by saying - Someone requested this next song, an we have the original German print of it - because it's not available anymore anywhere. And it was Hitler's personal march - and here it is! Ein zwei drei fier!

I was mortified. Well, I was more than mortified - I was sickened. And so I did something there as a newbie to the band, a first year player, that I am to this day proud of. I sat there with my horn, looked to the left of me and to the right, and put my horn back on its stand. I then crossed my arms in front of me and refused to play. I sat, arms crossed, for the song then got my horn back out to play the rest of the show. A bold move for a newbie I think.

And I'm sure Ed, our fearless leader, and a wonderfully nice man, didn't realize what he was doing. He was just so excited that someone had requested a piece of obscure music we had in our playbook that we'd never had the opportunity to play. I truly believe Ed is no Nazi.

But see, I had time to think about how I felt, about how people in the audience may have felt. That I know of we'd never done the song before and we've certainly never done it since. It was a one-off abomination.

And so [so? sou? son? I think it's so] now I'm down off the mountain an Oktoberfest is over. I spent the evening in th company of the SK Band, some of the friendliest, nicest, and kindest people one could ever know. Hopefully I didn't embarrass myself too badly - in front of the band or my family, who was there for the occasion - (personally, all I can remember is is that I kept introducing my nephew as his friend Andrew and Andrew as my nephew Taylor.Oh, and that I sold my own 2 personal Sauerkraut Band mugs for $10 apiece)(I don't know what they go for at the souvenir stand. I hope I at least came out even on the deal.)

And so I'm back at Mr M's, he's long gone to bed by now, he's not feeling well, and I'm here watching TV. PBS is showing yet another program about immigrants. And I'm seeing people who came to America to escape - Nazis.

And that's I guess what inspired this unabashedly drunken blog, a week earler than it was supposed to be.

It's those damn Nazis.

Nazis.

But now I'll sign off. I'm sitting here smoking clove cigarettes (since Mr M has gone to bed, I do that in front of him in his own house since he hates it so much) and drinking coffee in an effort to sober up enough to fall asleep.

But here's my plan - to wad this blog up into a little ball and put it in my travel bag, leaving it till next week to open and publish as part of National Drunken Writing Night. I will do it - IF I can read my own handwriting enough to publish it a week later. And if I am, forgive its content. And my incredibly drunken indiscretions.

And hate Nazis.

------

So there you have it. What I get up to when I'm three sheets to the wind. I seem to be quite fond of the dash - yep, that little fella. And I don't check for spelling.

Anyway, sober now I am. And you know what? I still hate Nazis.

Watch yourselves, Drunken Bloggers for Real! Don't go overboard!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Nah, no update, guys - it's Saturday, for cryin' out loud.