This doesn't have a darned thing to do with Belgium, but having lived within a stone's throw of the Berlin Wall for over 6 years, I humbly submit the following for your consideration:
About the only people I could ever envision lauding the border policies of the former East Germany would be 1) members of now-defunct eastern European politburos, or 2) anyone else who has never gotten around to reading a single book on 20th century European history. Enter Joe Miller, Tea Party Senate candidate from Alaska (the state that has already given us the Republican's version of Albert Einstein...).
Candidate Miller was certainly never a politburo member and, as a graduate of the U.S. Military Academy, he most hopefully cracked open the cover of at least one history book during his four years of study. But I might be wrong.
He draws comparisons between the current border problems in the southwestern U.S. and those same nagging "problems" which tormented the East German regime 50 years ago. He states that East Germany was "very able to reduce the flow. If East Germany could, we could." The tiny, insignificant distinction between the two circumstances seems missing in his argument: foreigners hopping across our borders in search of a better life; in East Germany, its citizen-prisoners trying to escape tyranny to reach a better life, often killed in their attempts.
Say what you will about the policies of Democrats, but in this wild year of politics I have yet to hear one discuss the merits of a "2nd Amendment solution" to politicians who simply espouse views different from your own, or praise one of the most heinous dictatorships in post-World War II Europe for its effective border policing.
Assuming that Mr. Miller has in fact read a history book at some point in his adult life, it must have been published by the same company that provided Sarah Palin her book on world geography.
Ever wonder where the name of that weird brown Crayola "burnt sienna" comes from? Well, as a kid, I did. And now, here's the answer: from the fantastic Italian renaissance town of Siena. Where the 2nd "n" comes from in the crayon will have to remain a mystery for other scholars. In any case, this town lived up to all its hype and then some - it is truly a jewel in Tuscany. Smaller and not as loaded with art treasures as Florence (the post from there will be coming in a couple of days), Siena manages to maintain that 15th/16th century flavor better than her rival to the north. The view from our hotel room, for example, was of a block of houses at least 350 years old, towered over by a side view of the massive cathedral, or Duomo. There was only a handful of tourists here, making it even nicer. Evidently you do not want to be here in mid-August, with the overpowering heat and crowds. As for food: nothing short of spectacular. For dinner we had a boar stew with spinach cooked in olive oil. I tried the famed local wine, Chianti, and found it a bit powerful. One glass was more than enough. For lunch the next day, before catching the bus north to Florence, it was pizza. Like almost all pizza in Italy (and in most of Europe for that matter), thin and crispy is the rule. Not much tomato sauce and no huge gobs of cheese. It's about as far from Pizza Hut's deep dish as you can get. Fine by us!
Many, many years ago, when I was a camper at Kennolyn Camp in the redwoods of California, we were taught a tongue twister revolving around a single word: Piccolomini. The game was to say the word over and over, as fast as you could, to a tune which put stresses at different places. We were told this was used by disc jockeys to hone their on-air skills. Little did I know that such a guy actually existed.
This time it was Feline Friend of the Family Lily, who at 18+ years finally came to the end of her 9 lives with us. She made it about a year longer than her sister Abby and, in human years, had to be pushing 90. Never the world's friendliest cat, she still was a beloved part of the family, howling and all.
In the States, my experience has generally been that in any city or town you'll have the ritzy sections, and the more run-down, or much older sections. Near our house in Maryland the trend is to cut down all the trees and build rows of McMansions, all ridiculously priced. But a mile or two away it's a much less affluent feel. There, like most places in the U.S., the two are usually separated and one can easily tell which area one is in. Not so here in Waterloo. It's amazing to me how the "neighborhood" changes, almost from house to house. Our town is considered very up-scale by Belgian standards. As such, there are plenty of small mansions and other gorgeous homes. But, within a minute's walk you also find a very different sort of house. They are mixed together here and, within no more than 150 yds., you can go from mini-mansion to cute-and-quaint to Yikes! See for yourself.
