Grandma Shrake told me once, when I was a teenager, with visible and audible disdain, regarding Marlene Dietrich, “I never believed she was a woman.”

I never wanted to study German. Has anyone? An ignorant youth, I was forced to do it because of a plot by my college advisor and his buddies over in the German Department to put asses in German 101 seats. They told me French was full, which I now know was a lie.

“HITLER WAS RIGHT!” screamed the graffito (in English) in a bar bathroom in Germany. Then in smaller letters, a reverse punchline to this shocking sentiment: “He knew only the Germans would be stupid enough to follow him.” Youch! I winced, thinking of the poor stupids, then laughed and peed. Was relieved at how the graffito [...]

Because I’m a baby writer, I just throw the blocks around on the floor, when I even remember they’re there. I jiggle them up and down, put them in my mouth, throw them at something. If they end up in a recognizable sequence, that’s just dumb baby luck.

I stun panhandlers who ask me for money by shushing them, my forefinger placed vertically in front of my mouth: “Shhhhh!” They stay stunned long enough for me to get away down the street without enduring further harassment.

There was a man in there, the Bettwäscheaustauschmännle. Even though I was 20 and didn’t know anything about the world, I found it curious that they employed a man just to take in all the laundry. Why not just have people drop it off? I was about to find out.

It is very rare to find a German who will break rank and go against other Germans. It’s just not their way. I only saw it personally twice. Once I saw a young guy trying to ride a bike down the sidewalk, but an older man was holding the seat from underneath. At first I [...]

America, late 1990s Sonia Honig-Seberg was the visiting professor from Germany one year in the department where I got my master’s degree in German literature. My buddy Berto and I took an immediate liking to her because she was like us. A fish out of water, flopping through the motions, uncertain of why. Unpopular with [...]

The Germans take death as seriously as they take everything else, which is to say, deadly seriously. Except when they are indulging themselves in a bit of humor. Then: If something bad happens to someone else, it’s funny. If it happens to themselves, it’s not funny. Got it? Your car burns up: Knee-slappingly hilarious. Their car burns up? Unspeakably tragic.