Here's To New Friends

Nothing major to write about today. It's been one of those blah-ambivalent days.

You know - one of those "auto-pilot days" - during which you just sorta go through the motions and do just the bare essentials?

I can have one of those, right?

Yet there are a few things I want to tell you about me that you might not know from what you have read heretofore (I love that word! Kinda archaic and "snooty", but I like to get the chance to work it into a conversation when I can):

I like finding out about different cultures and different ways of life, and am very proud of the fact that I have a lot of international friends: Germany (of course!), England, Australia, New Zealand and now, Scotland (my new musician friend Bill Dalziel whose music you heard a couple of entries back).

That is not to say that I don't also treasure my American friends, who occupy almost every state in the Union thanks to the International message board called The Straight Dope (on which I also first met the aforementioned friends from other countries and cultures).

I think I relate to those friends because I identify with them to some degree, being that if they were to move to the US, it would become such an "adventure" for them, much as it was with me when we emigrated here from Germany.

I am very curious and like to learn about new cultures, beliefs and traditions.

For example, I always have eaten "continental" style with a fork in one hand and a knife in the oher, and some folks notice that about me, but don't mention it - probably because it's not such a "big deal" anymore.

There is, however, something they do notice and it never fails to amuse me.

See, I clean my plate when I eat.

By that I mean I don't just eat everything on it - I actually scrape every last morsel or crumb and shovel it from the plate into my mouth!

This has led to comments such as, "Bill, Hon, there's plenty for everybody! Please help yourself!" (This usually precedes sidelong glances from diner to diner and much clearing of throats).

I then proceed to clean my dining space, by "combing" all the crumbs into my napkin, folding it, and placing it in the center of the plate followed by placing each utensil pointing north (never crossed), on both sides of aformentioned napkin.

Pretty anal, huh?

Well no. It's a tradition in my home country to eat everything on the plate, lest one offend the cook (indicated also by crossing the knife and fork on top of each other). And finally, the scraping of the plate doesn't only indicate that the meal was delicious, but also to show that "the more I put into me, the less you must scrape into the bio-bag." Germany is big into recycling (as we should be) and different color bags contain different kinds of waste.

One also never visits for dinner without a nice bouquet for the "lady of the manor". (I know it's "house", okay, so gimme a break. Call it poetic license!)

So things like that interest me, and I gravitate towards them and always give them my full attention - to the point of (like a 5 year-old) asking "why?".

In short, I like to know about people and why they are they way they are.

I wasn't this way as little as a year ago, friends. A year ago I was so stuck on myself you wouldn't have liked me.

I believe this disease (or any fatal disease) has a way of bringing one to one's knees and making one savor every minute and every person occupying whatever time is left.

My friend Becky sent me this (Thanks Fräulein). It's a new "take" on a beautiful old song. Enjoy it and don't forget to click to feed and vote.

Thanks

Bill