Züri G'schnätzlets
Thinly-sliced bits of web-logged goodness (as I see it)
from Downtown Switzerland and beyond.


Tuesday, December 31, 2002
Like sands through the hourglass ... so are the days of our lives.
Handycam Photo: Steve Holyer
 On the Seventh Days of Christmas ... I caught up ... and cleaned up.

Caught up ... 'cause I've fallen so far behind on my TIVO. Cleaned up ... 'cause it makes sense to make, as our friends in Brazil do, a clean start for the New Year.



Monday, December 30, 2002
On the Sixth Day of Christmas ... After I wrote my Santa Claus came to town entry on December 6 a few of my more faithful readers wrote to ask questions ranging from "Do you know anything about the Swiss Santa Claus?" to "Were you smoking some of that good Swiss Christmas wreath?" Well in fact I did know a little bit about the Swiss Santa and I've learned some more from you. I didn't mean any offense ... really ... I just wanted to retell my favorite Christmas cartoon from the US with a bit of my own irreverant Swiss update - since the cartoon is set in a "germanic" Middle European locale anyway. Santa Claus comes to Switzerland
Linked from: www.samichlaus.ch
Hire this man to be your Swiss Santa


So here is what really happens in Switzerland on Sammichlaus day. A stern and serious (but maybe not too stern and serious) bishop comes to the children's houses ringing a bell. But the bishop is not alone, with him is a little dark man dressed all in black leading a donkey. The bishop actually represents the Turkish Bishop Saint Nicholas himself who did many things to help out children when he lived around the year 500 AD. The little dark man is called a Schmutzli (and he more than likely recalls a local Swiss pagan diety whose mid-winter worship was stopped with the coming of the Christian Church - St. Nicholaus the Christian bishop controls the Schmutzli). Saint Nicholas (or in the local vernacular) Samichlaus has fruit, nuts, candy, and maybe little presents for the nice children. The Schmutzli's have switches for spanking the naughty children. The parents let the Samiclaus in and he sits down with his big book and reads from the book some of the naughty and some of the nice things the children have done. In the older days the Schmutzli's might have even given spankings to the children for the naughty things they had done. Now days, modern parents and Samichlauses try not to frighten the children to badly, but Züri G'er M writes that Samichlaus will still suggest or hint at areas where the children need to improve.

So waiting up for Santa isn't always the nicest thing. No wonder in this culture praise is so often balanced with criticism.

The Samichlaus and the Schmutzli often come from local Samiclaus clubs where the men dress up to play the role and then have appointed rounds to make to houses where the parents have asked them to come on December 6 (the feast day of St. Nicholaus). The parents will have the same Samichlaus year after year, so he'll come to know the children a little. The parents give the Samichlaus some details about the child so he'll know what specifics the parents want to praise or scold the child about.

Actually, the life and legend of the "real" St. Nicholas is celebrated all over Europe around December 6 when the kids learn about the Christian origins of the St. Nicholaus traditions. You can read more about St. Nicholas here. As I was completing my own brand of Santa Claus tale remembered from the kids' cartoon I realise how many of American Christmas traditions are purely commercial in nature. Several people asked me this year about the legend of Rudolph, which is a real a nice story, but only another commercial invention padded out by Rankin and Bass. The Puritans and other conservative protestant religous groups that influenced American life so much at the country's founding did not bring much about the legends of St. Nicholas over to American as they felt that the glorification of the saints such as St. Nicholas detracted focus from Christ where they felt it should be. But ironically, as the St. Nicholas Center points out, this ended up contributing in a way to the entire secularisation of Christmas that they hoped to avoid.


Sunday, December 29, 2002
And What Else was Hiding in the Old South's Purse? Now that Picayune's representative to (first) the House and (then) the Senate, Shrub's pal Trent, has let the cat out of the Old South's handbag I wonder what "Old South" the Picayune Chamber of Commerce was thinking about when they coined Picayune's above mentioned coin slogan. Just what is precious in the Old South's purse? A ballot for Strom? A white's only drinking fountain down to the Thigpen Hardware? A little lynching down to the Pearl River.

I always thought that Picayune made the transition from unbelievable Jim Crow to more equal integration rather smoothly. I still think it actually ... mostly. But, the nostalgia for the Old South really means one thing doesn't it? And it's one of those things that us white folk from Picayune had the luxury to not even think about. (Now I'm hoping the phrase was "Deep South's purse", but that's not the way I remember it.) Suddenly that whimsical turn of phrase doesn't seem so whimsical ...

But ya never asked Ms. Lora. Ya Never asked.


Racing around Picayune I remember around about the time I was in the Sixth Grade my best pal and Pollution Lab (don't ask) buddy Boyce Clark called up on the phone to report the unbelievable thing he had overheard at the drugstore next to the TG&Y.

A black woman was in the drugstore with her new baby. A white woman was holding the baby and admiring it saying:

"Why this is just the cutest little black baby I evah saw. Why if this little black baby was a white baby I'd just up an' take it home with me!"

Well the mother grabbed the baby back and left the store.

The white woman behind the counter scolded the first woman, "You shouldn't have said that to a black woman".

The first woman answered incredulously, "What? Ya wouldn't expect me ta take a home a black baby would ya?"

At least Boyce had the good sense to find the whole exchange horribly ridiculous. Maybe the Clark's had it goin' on. At least Boyce did. That's all around clear. I'm really not sure I would have had the good sense to recognize the wrongness at the time.


Now That's Interesting (to me) While I was posting the comic link above I saw that ucomics.com has changed the name of their image server to Picayune. Things that make you go "umm". I wonder why they'd name their image server after a small but precious coin in the Old South's purse?

(If you're a bit lost today, follow the links above to the Picayune archives of the Züri G'Schnatzlets. Not that it will help much.)


On the Fifth Day of Christmas ... I thought about New Year's Resolutions.

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson
December 29, 1991
I'll be spending the remaining days of the year telling people how the should change! My resolution is not to change a bit.
linked from The uComics Web Site
the self proclaimed "Best Comic Site In The Universe!"


Saturday, December 28, 2002
On the Fourth Day of Christmas ... I ate left over Turkey and stuffing (prepared by dear friend Debra), and watched the wonderful Imitation of Life.

Ya never asked Ms. Lora. Ya never asked.


Friday, December 27, 2002
On the Third Day of Christmas ... Years ago I made a ski trip to Winterpark, Colorado over Christmas break to chaperone some teens from Galloway United Methodist Church in Jackson, Mississippi. On that trip, which was one of my first skiing trips, I fell in love with the sport (and the general free feeling of gliding over snow in the mountains) and wished or dreamed that one day I might be a computer consultant in Denver, Colorado so I could just dash up into the Rocky Mountains and go skiing on the weekends.

I never dreamed that I would live in Switzerland and be able to dash up to the Swiss Alps to ski in only an hour or two. Or with slightly more time, to the famous Matterhorn for two nights sleeping in the Christmas-y village of Zermatt and two days skiing the peaceful and beautiful slopes. But that is exactly what happened ... and exactly what I did for Christmas. It was a special time for me ... though next time I don't want to be so far from the ones I love.
A Merry Matterhorn Christmas Card
Handycam Photo: Steve Holyer
This Christmas I hope that all your Christmas wishes come true beyond your wildest dreams.


Thursday, December 26, 2002
City Sidewalks A few weeks ago I promised a picture of the magnificent lights along the Bahnofstrasse. Here are the shopper's rushing home with their treasures on the last Saturday before Christmas - taken from Paradeplatz looking back towards the Main Station.... busy sidewalks - Zürich Paradeplatz
Handycam Photo: Steve Holyer



New G'Shnatzlets Right before Christmas I finally replaced the handy (that's mobile phone) that was run over by a car last summer (up until now I've been borrowing an older handy from the family Haslecker). My new phone (Sony/Ericsson T300) is one of those new-fangled things with a camera attached. So now I can to take a picture with my handy - when ever I want - and beam it over the ether to your email box (or compatible phone).

Sign-up now for the Züri G'schnatzlets Handycam Pic of the (more or less*) Day delivered (more or less*) live on the spot from Downtown Switzerland and beyond. Just drop a note to zurcherart@hotmail.com. If you have a T300 too send your phone number and I'll send the pictures by MMS. Otherwise your email address will do!

Please note though, that due to some, as of yet, unknown software limitation the pictures don't reach all email boxes. Hotmail accounts are known to work. Yahoo Mail accounts are known not to work. My sister's email is known to work. My Mom and Dad's is known not to work. Try your luck.

*more or less - as you know I'm not always the most reliable dispatcher.
*more or less - it's slightly complicated actually to snap the pic and then send it - so there might be some delays.


Gleis 18
Handycam Photo: Steve Holyer
On the Second Day of Christmas ... Actually on the day before Christmas Eve, I set out on a little Christmas adventure. As they say every journey begins at your front door. Or in my case, at track 18 of the Zürich main train station.

More on the third day of Christmas (hey, if I'm going to make it through 12 days of Christmas I have to pace myself)



Wednesday, December 25, 2002
Merry Christmas In deise stille Nacht, schlaff im himmlischer Rühe.

I'm wishing all of you the happiest of holidays. Let's all pray for peace on Earth and good will towards mankind. I haven't spent any time recently updating your G'schnatzlets ... so now I am kicking off the Twelve Days of Christmas ... I'll try to make it through twelve whole daily Christmas blogs.

Tomorrow: A Partridge in a Pear Tree?


Friday, December 06, 2002
Samichlaus Came to Town! Last night all the little Swiss boys and girls set out their stockings and their funny Swiss slippers by the fire to dry - and this morning the Swiss Santa - Samichlaus - had filled them all with candy and fruit and even toys. Yep, Santa doesn't wait until the 25th in punctuality conscience Switzerland. He makes his stops on December 6. It's a happy day.

Do you remember how Samichlaus got his start? Well years ago in nearby Sombertown the very grumpy Mayor, the Bürgermeister Meister Bürger, opened the door of his house and found a little baby boy with only the name Klaus pinned to his blanket. Well since the mean old Bürgermeister hated children he ordered his men to leave the poor boy alone in the woods to die. But the kind animals saw the little baby and hauled him over the border into the big forest. The animals towed the little baby to the toymaking Kringle family and their pet elves, who - before they fell on bad times - had been toymakers for Kings and Bürgermeisters alike.

Of course, Mrs. Kringle loved the little baby Klaus and took him right inside to raise alongside the pet elves. She decided to name him Kris Kringle cause he reminded her of the Kristkindli - the little baby Jesus. Well Kris Kringle grew up to be a groovy and hunky dude, and when he did he volunteered to deliver all the toys the pet elves had been making for years to the children of Sombertown. Well Ma and Pa Kringle were against that. They hadn't delivered any toys to kings or bürgermeisters or anyone else for many many years. See, first they were really annoyed by the noise of the magic sleighs taking off from Sombertown's somewhat uniquely magic airport. And even if the magicsleighlärm weren't a problem the border was still guarded by the fremden police and a really really scary winter warlock who had been stopping Kringle Toy, AG deliveries. But young hunky Kris just knew he had to deliver the toys (mostly so he wouldn't have to share his room with one of the elf pets named Herbie who kept whining about being a dentist - cause Herbie's room was being used to store all the toys that were stopped at the border). Finally Ma and Pa gave in, and Kris strapped all the toys on the back of a sled (the regular kind - not a flying kind) and set out for the border.

Of course, Kris was stopped by the really scary winter warlock, but - having studied some psychology - Kris realised that the warlock's bluster was all a reaction formation to never having recieved a gift. Kris gave the warlock his first very own toy. That scary warlock melted into a real softy right there and even ran interference with the fremden police so that Kris could deliver all his toys to Sombertown. When he got to Sombertown, Kris gave toys to all the children, but the kids didn't pick up their toys when they were done playing with them. Which meant soon the cranky Bürgermeister Meister Bürger fell over a toy duck and broke his leg. Naturally he outlawed all toys and burned the ones that the children had. He even forced everyone to dress all in black, but that's not cause he was cranky. That's cause he was stylish.

Kris was arrested for wearing red and generally creating disorder on his next visit to Sombertown. In jail he met his old friend the winter warlock who was suffering from a terrible winter depression brought on by week after week of dark, grey, foggy days in Sombertown. As I mentioned, hunky young Kris knew a thing or two about psychology in general (and depression in specific) so he taught the warlock tke only way to fight depression - why you just put one foot in front of the other 'till soon you're walkin' out the door. And to this day everyone in and around Sombertown knows that hiking in the mountains is the best cure for the winter blues. Well anyway, out of gratitude that cuddly winter warlock used the last bit of his magic to enchant some corn which he fed to Kris' reindeer. Of course after the reindeer ate the corn the reindeer could fly. Then they just flew into the prison and flew out with Kris and the warlock.

Kris realised that with flying reindeer he could make a magic flying sleigh to help him deliver his presents, but now Kris was a fugitive from the law so he had to take an alias and sneak around at night to deliver the presents. He decided to go back to the name that was pinned on his blanket - plus he always liked the name Sammy. That's how he became Sammy Klaus. He realised that good children in Somber town always left their stockings and funny shoes by the fireplace to dry so he started hinding toys in them so the mean old Bürgermeister Meister Bürger wouldn't find them

And not wanting to show favoritism to the children of Sombertown he started delivering his toys to children all over the world in his flying sled. After he met the foxy and really groovyJessica, who became Mrs. Klaus, he wanted to stay home more. Like every good worker from Sombertown, he reduced his work hours as much as possible and decided to deliver his presents only once a year. To honor the baby Jesus he decided to deliver his toys in the night of the baby Jesus' birthday - except in Sombertown and the surroundings. Since he has a special fondness for the first children he delivered toys to, he makes a special delivery in Sombertown on December 6

At least that's the way I remember the story from watching Rankin/Bass Christmas Specials on TV when I was a kid. I'm not sure what story the children of Sombertown are telling today. Cause I still can't figure out their dialect.

Wait a minute. Are you asking how I know children from Sombertown? Well, obviously, Sombertown is not the real name of the city where the Bürgermeister Meister Bürger outlawed the toys. Sombertown is clearly a code name made up by Misters Ranking and Bass. But think dear Züri G's. In what German speaking old European town do the people wear all black and prize order (no toys lying around) and cleanliness (the shoes and socks drying around the fire) more than anything else? Yes. I thought you'd figure it out!

Thanks to Kris Kringle, the Sammy Klaus, Sombertown's a better place today and everyday.
You must be somber children. Somber I say!
Linked from www.toonarific.com
A TOY? For ME?.
Linked from www.toonarific.com
Santa Clause came to town.
Linked from www.toonarific.com



Thursday, December 05, 2002
Who's the Biggest Christmas Bad Ass? You can vote here and look at other stuff at this craptastic blog.

But everybody knows ... Heat Miser's the baddest ass!


You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Pout Did you ask why?
I'm TELLIN' ya why! 'Cause Sammichlaus is comin' to town.

I wonder if someone told the Bürgermeister Meister Bürger?

Did someone say, 'Bürgermeister Meister Bürger?'
Linked from a crappy web site.



Things that Made Me Smile Today I saw a woman today with big blond Texas hair. Which is funny 'cause we don't get much get much big hair here. But this was honest-to-goodness ... Aquanet for days ... the-higher-the-hair-the-closer-to-Gawd ... blond ... big ... Texas hair ... on a Swiss woman.

She was behind the wheel of a biggie-sized dump truck heading to a road construction site!


Tuesday, December 03, 2002
But it wasn't Mom's Stuffing Turn's out that Mom had worked out in her own mind that I was coming home unannounced to surprise the whole family. Not as crazy as it sounds, in the Holyer clan those kind of things do happen with some frequency. But, unfortunately, not for this Thanksgiving. Anyway Mom had put together a list of clues indicating to her that I was on my way. Such as the fact that there were no hot Züri G'schnatzelts for a week (which indicated I was enroute to America unlike usual when it indicates I'm not updating). Then I guess Dad was acting "wierd" - which convinced Mom he was in on the secret. Then convinced they were both in on the secret, Mom even confronted my sister for hiding it from her. Naturally the more they denied I was coming, the guiltier they looked - and the more convinced Mom became.

Well, as I mentioned already, this year a Thanksgiving surprise wasn't in the works. But it sure feels nice to have some wish so hard for you!


We Gather Together Yep, last week was Thanksgiving. The best American feast in the whole wide world. Of course we don't have Thanksgiving in Zürich, but I think the Swiss people are thankful. At anyrate here Thanksgiving is just another grey foggy Thursday in November. Next year, I'll take the day off I think. It's good to spend a peaceful time of thankful reflection. And I'll put on the broadway albums and march around my living room in a three hour tribute to Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

I was invited to the wonderful home of a Canadian colleague from work and his American wife for a Thanksgiving turkey dinner with other homesick Americans in exile. OK, well we weren't too homesick - but we were missing being home for the family time of year. A Canadian couple was there with their toddler and their baby (which means I'm hoping to wrangle an invitation to Canadian Thanksgiving next year). Like many little boys, this little boy would only eat certain foods if tricked into it. Actually I'll only eat certain foods if tricked into it. So his mom had to keep whispering to fill me in on the gag.

Like when the Sweet Potatoes came round: "LOOK! PUMPKIN PIE FILLING". And as I was about to help myself: "(it's not pumpkin pie filling)". Oops almost tricked me into eating yams there.

It was almost tragic when the she brought out a big bowl and said "LOOK YUMMY CROUTONS. WHO WANTS CROUTONS?" Well, not I. Good thing I was watching and listening carefully though - "(it's not croutons)" . Cause if I'd passed on the "croutons" then I would have missed the best part of Thanksgiving Turkey Dinner - the stuffing!



I've attempted to leave this blog in the state it was in early 2006 as a historical artifact, but Google broke my original Archive page. What you see above is a quick reconstruction to rebuild some archive functionality without altering the original blog layout (or researching too deeply into Blogspot).

Original Contents Copyright 2002 - J. Stephen Holyer. All Rights Reserved.