diff --git a/content/20260516_dune.md b/content/20260516_dune.md index 8638615..22ecbf6 100644 --- a/content/20260516_dune.md +++ b/content/20260516_dune.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: Overcome date: 2026-05-16 21:00 author: T. F. -tags: beach, walkman, music, melancholia +tags: beach, walkman, music, melancholia, fuerteventura slug: overcome era: 1997/98 location: 28.094147518771056, -14.278849105269098 diff --git a/content/20260516_flotsam.md b/content/20260516_flotsam.md index 4a0bc9c..7c0e6a7 100644 --- a/content/20260516_flotsam.md +++ b/content/20260516_flotsam.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: Flotsam date: 2026-05-16 22:46 author: T. F. -tags: beach, treasure +tags: beach, treasure, fuerteventura slug: flotsam era: 1990/91 location: 28.213833449836425, -14.224199803299483 diff --git a/content/20260516_fm_surfing.md b/content/20260516_fm_surfing.md index bfe2d00..0ddbfca 100644 --- a/content/20260516_fm_surfing.md +++ b/content/20260516_fm_surfing.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: Freq Surfing date: 2026-05-16 16:00 author: T. F. -tags: radio, mystery, sci-fi, music +tags: radio, mystery, sci-fi, music, heidelberg slug: freq-surfing era: 1989-96 location: 49.3827205081448, 8.69198937287534 diff --git a/content/20260517_farewell.md b/content/20260517_farewell.md index faa8069..43b164d 100644 --- a/content/20260517_farewell.md +++ b/content/20260517_farewell.md @@ -1,13 +1,13 @@ title: Go West date: 2026-05-17 14:00 author: T. F. -tags: journey, goodbye +tags: journey, goodbye, heidelberg slug: go-west era: 1996 location: 49.40901367679297, 8.671027857791819 read_more: Step in → -It was time to board the bus. I was scared and excited at the same time. I gave my mother, father, and █████ each a long hug, then stepped onto the express shuttle that would take me from ██████████ to Frankfurt Airport. I don't really remember why we decided that taking the bus was a better idea than all of us driving to the airport for a longer goodbye, but at the time it seemed fine. I could hardly believe what lay ahead of me: a ten-month stay as an exchange student in a suburb of ██████, Texas, USA. +It was time to board the bus. I was scared and excited at the same time. I gave my mother, father, and █████ each a long hug, then stepped onto the express shuttle that would take me from Heidelberg to Frankfurt Airport. I don't really remember why we decided that taking the bus was a better idea than all of us driving to the airport for a longer goodbye, but at the time it seemed fine. I could hardly believe what lay ahead of me: a ten-month stay as an exchange student in a suburb of ██████, Texas, USA. @@ -17,4 +17,4 @@ As if the anxiety of not seeing my family for almost a year were not enough, I w I took a seat at the very back of the coach and looked out through the rear window. My family stood on the sidewalk, waving, and I waved back as the bus pulled away. I kept watching them until they disappeared from sight. Then I turned around, settled into my seat, and gazed at the urban landscape sliding past as we made our way toward the Autobahn. -That was the moment I took off the glasses I had worn for my lazy eye since kindergarten, for what would turn out to be the last time. I never needed them again. It was only about a week later that I realized my chronic cough, too, had mysteriously subsided. It felt as though, somewhere between ██████████ and Frankfurt, an old version of me had been left behind. It was time for a new me. A new era. \ No newline at end of file +That was the moment I took off the glasses I had worn for my lazy eye since kindergarten, for what would turn out to be the last time. I never needed them again. It was only about a week later that I realized my chronic cough, too, had mysteriously subsided. It felt as though, somewhere between Heidelberg and Frankfurt, an old version of me had been left behind. It was time for a new me. A new era. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/content/20260517_knon.md b/content/20260517_knon.md index 90f03a4..fbd5c2e 100644 --- a/content/20260517_knon.md +++ b/content/20260517_knon.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: Multiband Dub date: 2026-05-17 19:30 author: T. F. -tags: radio, dub, music +tags: radio, dub, music, texas slug: multiband-dub era: 1996 location: 33.00145024897442, -97.21488087311886 diff --git a/content/20260518_fax.md b/content/20260518_fax.md index 49bb545..2081e0e 100644 --- a/content/20260518_fax.md +++ b/content/20260518_fax.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: ᚠᚨᚲᛊᛁᛗᛁᛚᛖ date: 2026-05-18 12:00 author: T. F. -tags: fax, runes, cousin +tags: fax, runes, cousin, heidelberg slug: facsimile era: 1994/95 location: 49.3827205081448, 8.69198937287534 diff --git a/content/20260519_greenpub.md b/content/20260519_greenpub.md index ba4d2f6..c9989fd 100644 --- a/content/20260519_greenpub.md +++ b/content/20260519_greenpub.md @@ -1,7 +1,7 @@ title: Green Pub date: 2026-05-19 20:30 author: T. F. -tags: holidays, music, dance +tags: holidays, music, dance, fuerteventura slug: green-pub era: 1990/91 location: 28.050230326912754, -14.331272208852555 diff --git a/content/20260520_stadt.md b/content/20260520_stadt.md index d96e231..745e3d0 100644 --- a/content/20260520_stadt.md +++ b/content/20260520_stadt.md @@ -1,13 +1,13 @@ title: Downtown date: 2026-05-20 18:00 author: T. F. -tags: culture, shopping, discovery, music, books +tags: culture, shopping, discovery, music, books, heidelberg slug: downtown era: 1992-99 location: 49.40940095971948, 8.693200961471124 read_more: Let's go → -A weekly activity during my teenage years in ██████████ was going "into the city," which meant taking either my bike or the tram to downtown and following an almost ritually fixed path that took a few hours to complete, incorporating stops that satisfied all my special interests. +A weekly activity during my teenage years in Heidelberg was going "into the city," which meant taking either my bike or the tram to downtown and following an almost ritually fixed path that took a few hours to complete, incorporating stops that satisfied all my special interests. @@ -25,4 +25,4 @@ In later years, when my tastes in music and reading had evolved toward more soph Another option was always the public library, a place I had loved ever since I first stepped into it as a child. I remember spending hours and hours poring over comics and scientific picture books, and later discovering authors I would read obsessively, such as *Stanisław Lem* or *H.P. Lovecraft*. They even had a small occult book section in which I spent far too much time. And CDs to borrow (and illegally copy to cassette tapes). I vividly recall countless afternoons in that library, carrying around notes of things I needed to research to satisfy my curiosity and fill in gaps that our *Encarta '95* CD-ROM encyclopedia at home could only insufficiently cover. -In retrospect, "downtown" was the [chronotope](/pages/glossary.html) of my teenage becoming. Those weekly trips were how I discovered music, books, art, ideas, and subcultures that shaped my identity. When I'm in ██████████ I still occasionally walk the same route, though almost none of the shops still exist. And yet these ghosts of places continue to carry my memories: specific albums, books, games, moments of discovery, even moods I was in when they happened. Encountering culture then felt tangible and biographical, tied to places, moments, chance, rather than the timeless, placeless abundance of the digital today. God, I sound old. \ No newline at end of file +In retrospect, "downtown" was the [chronotope](/pages/glossary.html) of my teenage becoming. Those weekly trips were how I discovered music, books, art, ideas, and subcultures that shaped my identity. When I'm in Heidelberg I still occasionally walk the same route, though almost none of the shops still exist. And yet these ghosts of places continue to carry my memories: specific albums, books, games, moments of discovery, even moods I was in when they happened. Encountering culture then felt tangible and biographical, tied to places, moments, chance, rather than the timeless, placeless abundance of the digital today. God, I sound old. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/content/20260522_wookie.md b/content/20260522_wookie.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb2bdf8 --- /dev/null +++ b/content/20260522_wookie.md @@ -0,0 +1,18 @@ +title: Wookie +date: 2026-05-22 16:00 +author: T. F. +tags: friends, books, games, school, heidelberg +slug: wookie +era: 1994/95 +location: 49.38929497163642, 8.688350417165836 +read_more: Point and click → + +I have known ████████ since elementary school. He was the tallest in my class, and something always seemed a bit off about him. I liked him enough to invite him to a birthday party once. At least until he catapulted chocolate pudding at the kitchen wall with his spoon, to the amusement of all the other kids, and nearly got himself kicked out of the house and barred from ever coming back by my mom. + + + +Later, all throughout high school, we were both in the same class. We were never close, but I liked him. At least privately. He was always a bit hyperactive and nervous, and his thoughts seemed to outrun his speech, which made him stumble over words, drag one into the next, and fill the gaps with drawn-out *uuuhms* and strange moaning sounds, which, together with the long straight hair that fell well below his shoulders and sometimes hid his face, earned him the nickname “Wookie.” He was generally made fun of by almost everyone, usually following the lead of the class bullies. I probably took part in that to some degree, which I am not proud of, though I often felt sorry for him. + +This did not keep us from maintaining a kind of distant friendship, mainly fueled by our shared interest in *Battletech*, other science fiction book series, and computer games. We sometimes met, half secretly, after school near the bicycle stands behind the gym to exchange books, have brief conversations about them, or share strategies for beating *LucasArts* point-and-click adventures like *Maniac Mansion* or *Zak McKracken*. + +I sometimes regret not having had the courage to spend more time with him despite teenage peer pressure, but the need to belong and play the social game was as much of a minefield at that age as it is today. That reminds me that I still have the dark brown sheet of paper with the exit visa codes (early ’90s copy protection!) from *Zak McKracken* somewhere that he lent me, the one you needed to travel between places. That might be as good a hook as any to get back in touch with him. \ No newline at end of file