There goes my Baby...

That's exactly what I thought when I saw this happen in our yard yesterday morning:

Seriously, I loved that car. I'm 42 now, and still, it was only the second car I ever owned. Now it goes off to... the Netherlands.

Just to mention it: This car & I, we've gone through several adventures together. Icy roads in winter (not so much this year, but during the past ten years), lots of traffic jams on the German Autobahn (and I still wonder each and every time where all those people are going) and last but not least the famous Friday evening rush-hour in Paris. 

The only reason why I decided to let it go was because one of those opportunities-too-good-to-miss came along my way...

Plus, I knew that I'd have to invest in the little black one if I wanted to keep it for another few years. Two new sets of tires (summer and winter), and the timing belt would have to be changed in about two years. Plus who knows what else.

So I decided mind over heart to set this little car free. I really hope the Dutch guy who'll drive it from now on will treat it nicely.

My new (used) car will be here in a few days, so I'll have to borrow someone else's drive for errands on the weekend, but I guess I can deal with it.

Now all that's left to say is:  

Thank you, little black car! You did a really good job! 

May you drive past many windmills and always smell tulips...

The Day I (Almost) Saw David Bowie Live

In 1991, I spent my summer in Dublin, Ireland. In the mornings, we'd pretend to improve our language skills at a language school in Lower Leeson Street, and then we'd head into St. Stephen's Green or Grafton Street. In the evenings, we'd listen to the buskers for what seems like hours or we deepened our knowledge of the Irish culture in one of the countless pubs. That was the summer I learned to appreciate a nice cup of tea, good live music and a freshly tapped pint of Guinness.

It was also the summer I almost saw Bowie live in concert. During the later hours of an August afternoon, word spread that Bowie would play a surprise gig at O'Donoghue's that very same evening. Remember, this was 1991. The rare old times before everyone was online all day. Nobody had a cell phone, either. But nevertheless, the place was packed.

At some point, we came to the conclusion there wasn't a chance to get in. It started to rain, and we went to another pub instead.

I have no idea if Bowie really was there. Well, if he wasn't, everyone else was.

R.I.P.