I sat in my favorite coffee shop, sipping a Milch-Kaffee, nibbling a pumpkin-seed-encrusted croissant, and reading a mystery novel on my Kindle.
The shop is actually a thriving bakery, with only three tables for sipping and nibbling. It was a nicely chilled autumn morning, so I’d walked, listening to a German lesson or two on my iPod. See the logic there? Walking, but using my time wisely to prep myself for German, which would be spoken shortly. Wouldn’t it be nice if language lessons and reality matched up like that?
Takes me back to my high school French class and “La plume de ma tante est sur la table.” In the decades since I committed that useful phrase to memory, I have never once been asked where my aunt’s pen is. However, I was once asked in a French cheese shop if I spoke French. I was immediately able to adjust the phrase to “La fromage de my tante est sur la table,” both impressing my friends and confusing the woman behind the counter, who didn’t know my aunt and couldn’t have cared less where she kept her cheese.
German lessons work the same way. On this particular morning, unlike the thrilling voice on the iPod, I had not gotten off an airplane, nor taken a train, nor did I need to know where I could locate the American Embassy to schedule a haircut appointment for my aunt. I was going to a bakery, where I would be devoid of useful words and phrases and subject to the distain shown a Neanderthal whose native language consisted of pointing and grunting, and causing innocent children to cling to their moms’ skirts.
Fortunately, coffee is pretty much the same word in any language and Milch is close enough to milk. Croissant the same. Spoken with a tone of desperation, it’ll get you what you want. So, I sat down, sipped, put away the iPod and started on the Kindle.
As the coffee and croissant disappeared, I paused to look around me. Nothing in particular. The world in general. Oh how the world has changed since I took French.
Right in front of me were an iPod, and a Kindle. I was enjoying a cup of coffee from a magic coffee machine that hadn’t been invented, in a bakery shop that hadn’t existed. On my wrist was a battery-powered watch. I had a cell phone in my pocket. I’d pay my bill in Euros, not Deutschmarks. If I wanted, I could drive to France with no one checking my passport, because there is no protected border, and even in France I’d still pay in Euros.
Not only that, but there had been no Super Bowl to look forward to and the NFL only had about half the number of teams. On the sad side, there had been no Vietnam War, and JFK, MLK, and RFK were still kicking.
Heading to the slopes, I’d have found no snowboards, but I’d have seen skis longer than a grammar lesson.
The world keeps on changing, and except for the events that eventually wind up in a history book, we barely notice.
Even so, some things remain the same. I still enjoy coffee and croissants. The sun still rises and sets, fall follows summer, and I still wear Levis. Oh, yeah, my aunt’s pen is still right where she left it, right there on the table.
