Well, I just wanted to sneak in a quick last post to say that I’m soon off to that exotic municipality where the citizenry speaks this strange language, Austrian, and is wont to accost you, right in the street, with a lusty cry of “Guten Tag!”
My reply, usually, is “No, sorry, you’ve got the wrong man! But if I see him, I’ll say you’re looking for him.”
This usually elicits a pleasant reaction from the natives, who also have an odd habit of transporting their shaving brushes in their hat bands (and I have noticed that they prefer headwear of the kind made from material whose dark green color is often described as “loden”), which I assume is done to deal with the spectre of the dreaded five o’clock shadow, a facial condition which went largely unnoticed until it was identified as a physical characteristic of the controversial U.S. President, Richard M. Nixon.
You may remember that President Nixon was widely despised by the American left, but did you know that he was highly regarded by native Americans as a friend in Washington, and that he also ended the long-standing, horrific poisoning campaigns waged against Canis Latrans, the coyote, known among many Indian tribes as God’s Dog?
I mention this partly because another signature trait of the Austrians, if not exactly the sophisticated Viennese, is their penchant for yodeling. Many of my friends in Montana and Colorado find it hard to believe that the yodel was actually a continental vocalization long before it became a staple of life on the range. Alas, the yodel has entirely disappeared from the lexicon of country music, which some troubadors (including a personal favorite of mine, Waylon Jennings,) have rued in song. If you want to hear a cowboy yodel, go here and listen to “That’s How the Yodel Was Born.”
It’s funny but I can’t see Rafael Nadal or Roger Federer yodeling. The Mighty Fed probably sings arias in the shower as he uses all of those expensive hair care products that he brags about buying. And Rafael looks more like an Indian – an Apache, perhaps – than a cowboy. However, some might say he looks more like one of the The Village People. I would include a link to one of their songs, too, but that’s enough cruelty for one day.
I’m going to put up a brief post in a few minutes so that you can all start jawing about Wimbledon and grass court tennis at an official gathering point. I’m not sure I’ll be able to check this much next week, but let’s get something going and we’ll pick it up when I get back. . . ‘Dios