40 Days of Birthday: Day Seventeen

A sweet thing happened today. I was in our living room, on the floor cutting fabric, and I heard the sound of music from an accordion and trumpet. I ignored it at first but kept hearing it. I love an accordion. Out of our balcony window I saw the two musicians coming down our street, playing. As I was taking a picture of them, the accordion player looked up at me, smiled and presented his hat for payment. I gave him a nod and tossed down a two-euro coin, which he gracefully caught in that same hat. It was such an incredibly romantic European moment. I wish my photo did it justice.

 A silly thing happened today. On the spur of the moment, our building’s maintenance man told us he had time to finish some of the repairs in our kitchen that we’d been waiting on. It was decided, therefore, that I would make a solo mission of my Birth-Day today while Lennon and Nicholas supervised the kitchen work. I took the train a few stops to Wilmersdorf then caught the 115 bus. Unfortunately, this particular 115 was special and was only going a few stops. Never mind, the driver informed me that another would be coming in 10 minutes. Though the Brücke museum closed at 5pm, it was only 3:20pm at this point and I really just needed about an hour there. It’s a small place. I hopped on the next 115 which took me two stops before it too was at the end of its line. A little flabbergasted, I asked the driver where I’d gone wrong. He informed me that I was not on the 115 but the 249. I would need to walk back to the 115 stop, a block away. For the record, I’m certain it was marked 115 as it drove up. I swear. Ho hum. Finally at the proper stop, knowing the proper bus to take, my watch read 3:40pm. I certainly would arrive in time to see everything I needed to see.

Finally, the bus I’d waited so long for, simply and elegantly brought me to my destination. There was even a lovely, large sign near the bus stop pointing my way to the small museum. I walked down two suburban blocks that looked and smelled far more like Northern California than West Berlin. I really liked being there. As I arrived at the Brücke, I wondered if I’d be the only person there today, this late. The place was so small, they had a buzzer at the gate that you’d ring to be let in. So I rang.

So I rang.

I walked over to the glass enclosed sign-board at the front which informed me that the museum would be closed until October 23rd, a fact I now recalled having read on their website a couple of weeks ago. “Why didn’t I visit this museum earlier? It’s already Birth-Day Seventeen and the Brücke has been on my list for so long,” I queried to myself earlier this afternoon.

All answers were suddenly presented to me and it only took one train, three busses, and two suburban blocks for them to be found.