ritas kleine welt

we’ve all done it at one point in our lives. regardless whether the receiving end was a parent, a neighbour, a friend in kiddiegarden, a teacher or someone from telly or the silverscreen. we’ve all, at one point in our lives, worshipped the ground that someone tread on. it doesn’t matter whether that time lasted a moment, a day, weeks, years, … it doesn’t matter who it is that we’re feeling so excited about. a child’s teddy bear can become the ruler of the universe just like the greatest folk-hero that n/ever lived. but: where does this need for hero worship come from? what are its limits and failings? what its benefits?

things i overheard while talking to myself. phew. what a title. what a man! the informed reader may have already heard about last june's wonderous encounter with alan and his wife, arlene, on an abandoned evening road in the city centre of leipzig. well, this story has a prequel.

the bbc web page ran an article on the odd coincidences between the final season of The West Wing and this year's real presidential election in the US. but better read for yourself. 

let's just hope things in real life will turn out as they did for matt santos. (although i wouldn have given senator vinick my vote for the simple, fangirlish reason that he was played by alan alda...)

item #1 was discovered in the library on one of the three shelves entitled SPIEGEL magazine under the section of "year: 1952" whilst waiting in line at the copy machines and thumbing through a few volumes of bound issues of the magazine. item #2 was discovered painted with white-out on a random windowsill whilst waiting for the tram to arrive. the odd thing is: item #1 can be abreviated to cc; item #2 is abreviated to tt. if i had met with alan alda once again, this surely would have been a sign from somewhere out left from the milkyway.

so, did i mention that i met alan and arlene alda?!? s. was actually quite observant in timing the exact moment that the universe aligned in perfect unison: when poldi scored the first goal for germany, i shook hands with the man whom i was severely adoring when i was twelve years old. how often is it that you get to almost literally bump into the idol of your childhood and not have all your dreams shattered in one instant. i can only repeat what i have said on the MASH-board before: he is a terribly sweet man. and everyone who's trying to make him out as a complete berk and stuck-up egoist better answer to me!

find a detailed account of my accidental meeting with alan and arlene alda in a random street in leipzig here. it's only in german, but i wouldn't be able to put that all into proper english. too many confused emotions still running high. (it's still amazing how i didn't go all mumm or border on the brink to fainting like i did when meeting jeffrey eugenides a few years back.)

on my way home from a t-rex concert in the city centre of leipzig, i met alan alda. and now i am pregnant with hawkeye's love child. tomorrow i'll let you know more about it --  when i am sober and can think straight again.