My friend Alex. We met 21 years ago during Oktoberfest in Munchen. My two girlfriends and I were trying to get back to the room we'd rented after drinking so many large beers in the various tents filled with oom pah pah music and men who were eager to provide free drinks.
We had taken the right track heading in the wrong direction. When we realized our mistake we got off in the middle of nowhere in the middle of night. As we waited for the right train at the small station a young man asked to bumb a cigarette. That wrong train put us in the right place.
One of my friends was heading back to Amsterdam but two of us moved into Alex's house the next day. He'd warned us that it was just the attic of his parents house. Expecting a hovel,we fell in love with the beautiful, old Bavarian home that had been built by his grandfather and the huge gardens that surrounded it.
Our accommodations were a fully furnished apartment on the 3rd floor that we shared with Alex, a long-haired, beautiful, wild-child, musician, artist. Every morning his mother, Maria would bake bread and deliver a tray of deliciousness and strong coffee up to us. She cooked from her garden, grew mushrooms in the basement and took us in as if we were her own, constantly prodding us to "essen". She even had a hang-over cure aperitif called something like "Kloster Frau Melissen Geist", something about a nun and a flower and a ghost?
The next weeks were filled with excursions to the countryside, late night gigs and parties, great food and lots and lots of strong beer. My friend and I both fell in love with Alex, needless to say that was a problem. I "got" him, she felt like a 3rd wheel. For her a nightmare for me a dream. Meandering in the rain on the grounds of Schloss Nymphenburg, drinking hot tea in the 150 year old apartment of his enchanting friend Anja, long walks and lingering kisses.
He followed me back to the states and lived with us for long periods of time. Our relationship didn't work in the new world but we continued to be great friends. He practiced his tattooing skills on our friends and eventually opened his own parlor in Munchen.
We have each travelled to see the other and remain friends today.
Hey Ginny! I totally remember Alex, though I had no idea of the whole background as to how he ended up in Sacramento. I met him the day he tattooed Jeni Gamble's shoulder with her mom's artwork - 'Cats leaving the moon.' He did a fantastic job...and it was no simple feat! When I think of Alex, I can't help but think of a crack-up comment he made in his thick German accent: "That sucks the big donkey schling-schlong!!" :-D
ReplyDeleteOh Em Gee, David! I say that all the time, forgot that it was Alax that brought it to us.
ReplyDeleteLast time I saw Alex was in Amsterdam, Summer '91. I was walking down the street, about to leave for a week or so in Prague, when I heard feet behind me and a shove on the shoulder. "J?! Is that you?! Holy Fuck, what are you doing here??" Now, understand, he was saying all this through a mouthful of half-chewed pasta he was trying not to choke on--he'd seen me through the window of a restaurant; just looked up at the right time and ran out the door!! He was on his way back to Sacto, then to Mexico, I think; we had some drinks in A-Dam that night, but I never did see him back here stateside--or again. Coolest random nice-guy you'd ever be lucky enough to meet...let alone on 2 continents! I think it's been 20 years since he went back to Germany--I hope it's not another 20 before we see him again.
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